


Backwards

by Anonymous



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Mild Smut, Negan (Walking Dead) Being an Asshole, Negan (Walking Dead) Swears, Negan (Walking Dead) is an automatic warning, Possessive Negan (Walking Dead), inspired by a book
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-02 11:46:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 197,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10217324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After Carl and Negan meet during college, things will never be the same again.This story is currently being edited.





	1. ONE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not edited yet. Carl is 18. Negan is 20 so de-aged Negan essentially. This story is inspired by another book. It’s heavy drama and angst so it will be a wild ride. Updates weekly.

Carl’s alarm is set to go off any minute. He’s been awake for half the night, shifting back and forth, counting the lines between the ceiling tiles. Today is the day where- 

“Carl!”

He hears his father’s voice call from downstairs. Carl groans to himself and rolls out of his tiny bed. He takes his time tucking the corners of his bed sheet against the headboard, because this is the last morning that this will be a part of his regular routine. After today, this bedroom is no longer his home.

“Carl!” his father calls again.

“I’m awake, dad, jeez!” Carl yells back. The noise of the cabinets opening and slamming closed downstairs makes it known that Rick is feeling just as panicked as Carl is. His stomach is tied in a tight knot, and as he starts his shower he prays that the anxiety he feels will lessen as the day goes on. All of his life has been a series of tasks in preparation for this day - the first day of college.

He spent the last few years nervously anticipating this. He spent weekends studying and preparing for this as his peers were hanging out, drinking, and doing whatever else it is teenagers do to get themselves in trouble. That wasn’t Carl, especially since his dad is the sheriff in their small town. He was the guy who spent his nights studying on the living room floor, listening to Michonne talk about her day at work and waiting for his father to come so they can have a quiet family dinner filled with laughter and jokes.

The day his acceptance letter to Georgia State University came, he couldn’t have been more thrilled—and Michonne cried for what felt like hours. Carl can’t deny that he was proud that all his hard work had finally paid off. He got into the only college he applied for and, because of his grades, he received many grants and scholarships so he didn’t have to worry about student loans. He had once, for just a moment, considered leaving Georgia for college. But seeing all the color drain from his dad’s face face at the suggestion, and the way he paced around the living room for nearly an hour, Carl told him he really hadn’t been serious about that.

The moment he steps into the spray of shower water some of the tension leaves his strained muscles. He stands here, under the hot water, trying to calm his mind, but really doing the opposite, and getting so distracted that by the time he finally washes his hair and body, the hot water had run out.

As he wraps the towel around his wet body, his father calls his name yet again. Knowing that it’s his nerves getting the best of him, Carl gives him some leeway but takes the time to perfect his hair. Rick is anxious for his arrival day at college, but Carl has already told him that everything will be fine. 

He decides to dress simple: his old black vans, blue jeans, graphic tee of one of his favorite bands, and a buttoned down long sleeve shirt to complete the outfit. It's his usual outfit and he hasn’t had time to go shopping because his summer was extremely busy.

His girlfriend, Lydia, will be here soon to ride up with us. She’s going to a community college near her home to save money and plans on going to Georgia State next year. She’s brilliant and has straight A’s but his family isn't that fond of her. Mostly because of her old reputation of being a party girl but she calmed down durging her last two years of high school when they threatened to kick her out because of her low grades. Carl really wishes she was coming now, especially considering that he will know a couple of people at college, but he's thankful that Lydia has promised to visit as often as possible. 

“Carl!” Michonne shouts this time, doing it to mess with him. He hears someone in the hallway bathroom and sighs - it’s showtime.

“My ears might be bleed if you keep calling me,” Carl says as he walks down the stairs. Lydia is sitting at the table across from Michonne, staring down at her blouse. She’s more nervous than he is.

“Hey, Carl.” She smiles a bright, perfectly lined smile as she stands. She pulls him into a tight hug and runs a hand through his hair. He hates when people do that, especially since he’s growing out his hair.

“Hey.” Carl gives her an equally bright smile, trying to ignore Michonne’s smirk. “Where’s dad?” he asks her. The man who couldn’t stop calling his name for the past hour.

Michonne stands as well and says, “He should be down in a minute. You know how he gets.”

Carl nods and walks over to the mirror. He does know how his father gets and if they don’t hurry, he will be late. His hair is almost touching his shoulders and he combs the loose strands over, curling it slightly near his eye. He decides that he’ll go hat less today.

“I put your bags in the car already last night.” Rick states to Carl, coming into the kitchen. He gives Michonne a quick kiss and fixes his white polo shirt, tucking it into his blue jeans. His hair is usually gelled and he smoothes over it once more then claps his hands together.

“Ready to start your future?”

“Well,” Carl says dryly. “When you say it like that…”

Everyone chuckles and Rick leads him outside by his shoulders, Lydia following behind silently. Michonne decides to drive and Carl is starting to get nervous, although it’s a long way until they get there.

Carl has no idea what college will be like. He just hopes he stays out of trouble.

~O~

Each sign that indicated they were getting closer and closer to Georgia State, Carl became more distracted. Carl wasn’t sure what Lydia was really talking about, but he knows she was trying to be reassuring and excited for him. He’s surprised by his dad’s quietness, but he’s probably just as anxious as everyone else.

“We’re here,” Michonne states when they drive through a stone gate and onto campus. It looks just as great in person as it did in the brochures and online, and Carl is immediately impressed by the elegant stone buildings.They didn’t have to time to visit the campus on any tours, because of Rick’s job and Michonne’s work hours. Hundreds of people, parents hugging and kissing their children goodbye, clusters of freshmen dressed head to toe in GSU gear, and a few stragglers, lost and confused, fill the area. The size of the campus is intimidating, but Carl somehow feels right at home.

They all hold a smile on their faces throughout the whole Freshmen orientation. Michonne asking questions while Rick stands back, hands on his sides, observing and taking everything in. Lydia just takes photos and remains quiet.

After it’s over, Carl heads over to check in to find out where his dorm and classes will be. He should have checked online, but hey, he's a teenager - he forgets things. Luckily, Michonne forgets nothing and is already a step ahead.

“We should help you unpack a few things before we leave.” Michonne says once orientation is over and their standing in front of Carl’s dorm building.

Rick chuckles at her excitement and follows behind everyone, carrying Carl's bags as they navigate through the corridors.

  
Carl is thankful that he only brought a few clothes, a blanket, and some of his favorite movies and comics because his dorm is on the 4th floor - number 7.

At the end of a long hallway, Carl slides the key into the old wooden door, and when it creaks open, he smiles. On one side of the room there’s Noah, already hanging up some posters on the wall. He graduated high school with Carl and they both were going to the same college so decided to request each other has roommates. They’re great friends who trust each other and it was easier to have at least one person you know close by.

  
“Hey,” Carl says, laughing as Noah turns around.

“Hey!” Noah greets and they do a signature handshake, before Noah directs his attention to everyone else. “Nice to see you again, Rick and Michonne. You too, Lydia.”

“Thanks, Noah. Nice to see you too,” Rick says and Michonne smiles while Lydia nods awkwardly in the background.

“I hope you don't mind that I chose a side already.” Noah explains with a nervous smile.

“Nah, it's cool.”

And Rick puts his bags on the available bed, analyzing the room.

“Did Sasha and Abraham already leave? I didn't see them at the orientation?” Michonne questions Noah.

“They couldn't stay,” Noah answers, apologetically. “I already went the orientation during the summer so I didn't have to go to this one.”

“Oh,” Rick raises an eyebrow. “We’ll see Abe and Sasha soon anyways-”

There’s a swift knock on the door before a guy comes in with an annoyed expression. Carl’s eyes widen slightly and he takes a step back.

The guy is tall, at least three inches taller than Carl, lean, broad and has jet black hair slicked back to perfectly. Carl isn't usually attracted to that kind of hairstyle but it works on this guy. He's dressed in mostly black, wearing brown jeans, black boots and a heavy black leather jacket. His eyes are dark brown, hazel even. This is guy must be crazy if he’s wearing a leather jacket in the summer, in Georgia. Lydia mouth hangs open in shock and Carl elbows her softly.

“Well,” the strangers spits at Noah, ignoring everyone else.

Noah looks just as confused as Carl. “Hmm…”

“Are you the jackass that complained to the dorm adviser on the first fucking day of school?”

Realization quickly draws on Noah’s face and he shakes his head furiously. “It wasn't me, I don't snitch. You shouldn’t have been smoking in the hallways anyways, dude.”

“First off, _dude_ , don't call me dude. This isn't California. Whoever snitched tell them to shut their mouth next time before it gets ugly. And no one likes ugly. Got it?”

Noah makes an okay sign and the guy growls, leaving with a huff, not bothering to close the door behind him.

“Who was that?” Rick says after a few moments of silence.

“That was Negan. He's a sophomore here. He has a pretty bad reputation.”

“Clearly,” Rick snorts and turns to Carl. “I don't want you hanging around him.”

“Trust me!” Carl says, holding up his hands. “I don't want to be around someone like that.”

“Good.” Rick states with a nod of approval.

“He isn't going to be trouble, is he? He seems like a loose cannon,” Lydia points out.

“No,” Noah shakes his head. “Just don't get on his bad side and things will be fine.”

“That shouldn't be a problem,” Carl states, taking Lydia’s hand and squeezing it tightly. “I'm going to stay as far away from him as possible.”

~O~

Michonne looks around the room again, taking in the décor after unpacking everything. “I think we’re done here.” she says with a bittersweet laugh.

  
Rick agrees and Carl says his goodbyes to them. He kisses both of his parents on the cheek and promises to call or text them at every opportunity he gets. Rick delivers one long speech about parties, grades and finding a job before taking Michonne and leaving. Lydia stays behind with a sad smile.

“I’ll miss having you around every day,” she says softly and pulls Carl into into arms. He realizes that he’ll miss this scent of her perfume and the comfort and familiarity that go along with it, no matter how many times he’s hated it in the past.

“I’ll miss you, too, but we can talk every day,” Carl promises and tightens his arms around her. They have been through out together. He knows that Lydia can be awkward, especially around his father and Michonne, but time heals all wounds.

Lydia laughs and breaks away from me. “I don't want them waiting too long.” She kisses me on the cheek and hurries out the door, yelling, “Call you later!” as she goes.

“Well, that was awkward.” Noah chuckles as soon as she closes the door. Carl nods, completing forgetting that he was there. The roommate thing will take some time getting used too.

Noah tells him that he's going to library to print on his materials needed for his classes.

Left alone, Carl thinks about his hasty exit for just a moment and then begin to unpack his bags. Shortly, half his clothes are neatly folded and stored in one of the small dressers; the remainder are hung neatly in his closet. 

Feeling the beginnings of exhaustion from the day, Carl lies across the bed. An unfamiliar loneliness is creeping its way into him already, and it doesn’t help that Noah is gone. He have a feeling Noah will be gone a lot, or, worse, have company over too often. Noah is dating Beth, another good friend of Carl who goes to this school so it may not be too bad. So far college is neither what he had dreamed of nor expected.

He reminds myself that it’s only been a few hours. Tomorrow will be better. It has to be.

Carl gather his very expensive textbooks, taking the time to write down his classes for the semester and his potential meetings for the comic club he plans on joining; he's still undecided on that, but he sounded cool when a few students were taking about it at the orientation. He wants to try to find a group of like-minded people he can talk to. He doesn't expect to make a lot of friends, just enough that to have someone to hang out with occasionally.

The fact that he doesn't have a car yet will make it a little difficult. The sooner he gets one, the better. He had enough money from graduation gifts and savings from his summer job at a movie theater. The fact that he lives on campus gives him full access to public transport so it shouldn't be a problem.

With thoughts of schedules and unfriendly men wearing leather jackets, Carl drifts to sleep with holding one of his favorite comics, _The Punisher_.

~O~

The next morning Noah is not in his bed. Carl wants to hang out with him more but Noah is usually busy studying or studying with Beth, making it difficult to see him all the time. Beth is a nice girl, friendly and sweet - plus he knows they are both in the pre-med major so they will always been busy doing something.

Grabbing his toiletry bag, Carl makes his way to the shower room. He can already tell that one of his least favorite things about dorm life is going to be the shower situation—he wishes each of the rooms had their own bathrooms. It’s awkward, but at least they won’t be coed.

He reaches the door and sure enough, there are two stick figures printed on the sign, one male and one female.

_Great!_

Spotting an open shower stall, he skirts through the half-naked boys and girls quickly, pulls the curtain closed tight, and undresses, then hang his clothes on the rack outside by blindly poking one hand out of the curtain. The shower takes too long to get warm and the entire time Carl is paranoid that someone will pull back the thin curtain separating his naked body from the rest of the guys and girls out there. Everyone seems to be comfortable with half-naked bodies of both genders walking around; college life is strange so far, and it’s only the second day.

The shower stall is tiny, lined with a small rack to hang his clothes on while he showers and barely enough room to stretch his arms in front of him. He finds his mind drifting to Lydia and his life back home. He forgot to call her - dammit! Distracted, he turns around and his elbow knocks into the rack, knocking his clothes to the wet floor. The shower pours onto them, completely soaking them.

“Shit!” He groans to himself, hastily cutting the water off and wrapping the towel around his waist. He grabs the pile of heavy, soaked clothes and rushes out the bathroom. He stops in his tracks when he sees the leather jacket guy - Negan - leaning against the wall near his dorm room, whispering to a girl.

Carl looks around, debating whether or not he just dash back into the bathroom, going unseen.

“Do I look like I care about what Dwight thinks?“ Negan says, loud enough for Carl to hear.

“No,” the girl with him says in a soft voice. “I don't want to hurt him. He’s still my boyfriend, Negan...”

“That's your mistake,” Negan chuckles, looping an arm around the girl and squeezing her waist.

“Negan,” the girl giggles and then stops, her face going serious.

“Sherry,” Negan says, like she's being stupid. “If you didn't want to hurt your precious Dwight’s feels, why did you let me fuck you senseless, hmm?”

Carl mouth drops out and he does a double take. His hands are clenched around the soft fabric of his towel and his eyes keep darting down to make sure it’s actually covering his naked body while trying to figure out an escape plan.

“That was an accident...”

“Really?” Negan's eyebrows rise almost comically. “Was your mouth accidentally on my dick this morning? I don't recall you thinking of Dwight's feelings when you sat on my face two nights ago.”

Sherry slaps him, hard. He doesn't even flinch, if anything, his grins more. “You're an asshole, Negan.”

There's a pregnant pause and Sherry kisses him roughly, grabbing his leather jacket. He allows her to and pulls back with a cocky grin on his face as she sighs.

Suddenly, they look up in the direction of Carl. The corners of Sherry’s mouth frown slightly, but she doesn’t say a word. She doesn't seem to even notice that he's in a towel. Or maybe she has but it doesn’t impress her.

Carl doesn't bother looking at Negan's reaction and rushes past them, shakily opening his door and closing it shut behind him. He lets out a deep breath as he lets the awkwardness and embarrassment set in.

What was he thinking standing there like at idiot, in a towel nonetheless, listening on their conversation? Yes, they were blocking his entrance to his room and yes, they were speaking quite loud but it was still wrong of him.

The door opens and Noah steps in. Carl jumps slightly and is instantly relieved when he sees that it's only Noah.

“Jeez,” Noah chuckles, locking the door behind him. “What's got you spooked? I haven't been gone that long. I got us breakfast.” He holds up two large paper bags and Carl smiles slightly, relaxing.

“Thanks,” Carl says. “And it's nothing. I guess I'm not use too being alone just yet,” he chuckles nervously, fibbing a little. 

“Yeah, I finally went to sleep listening to music. You'll get use too it.” Noah shrugs like it's not a big deal and sets their breakfast down on Carl's desk.

Carl gets dress quickly as Noah informs him of the latest campus activities and how cool the comic club is.

“I was actually thinking about joining after the first week of classes are over,” Carl admits, hopping out his bed while biting into his bagel.

“You should. They have all these types of cool artists and tickets they give out like every week,” Noah explains and then snaps his fingers, remembering something. “You should come to the first college party tonight!”

Carl laughs at that.

“Parties aren’t really my thing. Plus I have to go to get some things for my desk and walls.” He's been too a few parties back in high school and they were also the same boring routine.

“C’mon, it's a college party! The ones we went to back in high school were lame. We’re in college now, just one party won’t hurt,” Noah begs. “And you can still go to the store since the party is later tonight anyways.”

His father's warning about parties goes through Carl's head. He's heard plenty of stories, but if he's being honest, they made him curious.

“Who’s going to be there?”

Noah shrugs. “I don't know. Beth, I think. And a few others that I don't really know?”

“Negan?” Carl asks.

“Yeah, he's probably going to be there.”

Carl is too curious not to ask. “How do you guys know each other?” he blurts out.

“I don't really _know_ him. During the summer orientation he was there and apparently threw a party at a beach house.”

“You went?” Carl questions.

“No,” Noah shakes his head. “I'm glad I didn't. The beach house wasn't actually his, it was some stranger’s house and the police showed up. No one got caught and no one snitched so it kinda just went away. Imagine if I was there and Sasha or Abraham found out? I would have gotten a black and blue beating.”   

They both laugh at that. 

“But this isn't Negan’s party, technically, it’s a frat party, at one of the biggest frat houses here. So, are you?”

“Yeah, I’ll come,” Carl says, despite his anxiety. “It sounds like it might be fun.”

“Great We’ll have so much fun!” Noah says, breaking into a small dance. Carl smiles and shakes his head. But a big part of him is practically praying that Noah is right.

~O~

Hours and a couple of naps later, it's almost time for the party.

“Where is the party? Is it within walking distance?” Carl asks Noah, trying to sound calm as he aligns his books neatly on the shelf.

He hopes that if Negan is at the party, he doesn't ruin his night by mentioning the scene in the hallway.

“Did you hear me?” Noah says and interrupts Carl's thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what?” Carl hadn’t realized his mind had wandered to the rude guy in the leather jacket.

“I said we can take the shuttle or bus to party since it's not on campus.”

“Cool,” Carl says and ruffles his hair. He throws on a plain white tee and changes into blue sneakers. It’s a typical young adult college student outfit. Noah is dressed in something similar and that makes him feel better.

Noah phone buzzes and he turns to Carl. “Ready?”

Carl puts more deodorant on and strays on some cologne. “Ready.”

“Hey!” Someone calls from behind them as soon as they leave the room.

Carl and Noah both turn to see an unfamiliar guy, with a weird mustache, combed back hair and a greasy smile.

“Simon,” Noah greets causally and lifts a chin towards Carl. “This is my friend Carl.”

“It's always nice to see fresh meat,” Simon says, his tongue going over his teeth.

Carl gives an awkward smile.

“Anyways, are you guys heading to the party?”

“Yeah,” Noah says. “We were just about to catch the bus up there.”

“The bus? Do you guys want a ride?”

Carl and Noah share a look. Carl shrugs not really caring, at least they'll get there faster.

“Sure,” Noah answers for the both of them.

“Awesome!” Simon laughs and they all head down the hallway. 

Dread settles in Carl’s stomach, this is a bad idea and as soon as they reach Simon’s car in the nearest parking lot, he wants to vomit.

“What the fuck took you so long?” A familiar annoyed voice says from the backseat when Simon unlocks the door.

Negan.

“Impatient asshole,” Simon says and climbs into the front seat. Noah takes the passenger seat but not before throwing Carl a pitiful look.

Carl sighs and opens the back door, carefully sliding in.

“What the literal fuck?” Negan glares at him and sets upright suddenly to stare at Simon in the mirror. “You invited the eavesdropper in here?”

“Wait a second, he’s the loser in the towel?” Simon chokes up in the driver’s seat, starting up the car.

“What?” Noah questions in confusion. 

“I wasn't eavesdropping,” Carl couldn't help but snap. “You and your _friend_ were talking loudly in front of my door so I couldn't do anything else.”

“Please,” Negan snorts. “You were standing there in a towel, two seconds away from jacking off to my conversation.”

Carl clenches his jaw and says nothing else, hoping that Simon would drive fast or turn the radio on really loud to drown out any future conversations.

“What's your name anyways?” Negan asks after a few moments of awkwardness. 

“Carl,” Carl mumbles under his breath, deciding not to be rude.

“Carlton? That's a stupid name. Sounds like a annoying animal’s name.”

Oh and Negan isn't? But he holds his tongue with that one.

“I said my name is Carl,” Carl repeats louder this time.

“Yeah,” Negan smirks. “I know. I heard you the first time, Carlton.”

Carl leans back against his seat and rolls his eyes. He chooses not to banter back and forth with him; it’s not worth his time.

He stares out the window, trying to drown out the loud music as they drive. Saved by music.

Finally, Simon parks on the side of a busy street lined with large, seemingly identical houses. Painted in black letters is the name of the fraternity, but Carl can’t make out the words because of the overgrown vines sneaking up the side of the massive house in front of them. Messy strings of toilet paper sprawl up the white house, and the noise coming from inside adds to the stereotypical frat house theme.

“How many people will be here?” Carl gulps, his palms becoming sweaty. The lawn is full of people holding red cups, some of them dancing, right there on the lawn. This was a bad idea.

“Hopefully a lot of new people for me to _talk_ with.” Negan responds with a wicked grin and gets out of the car, slamming the car door behind him. Of course he doesn't wait for Carl to come out of the car.

From the backseat, Carl watches as multiple people high-five and shake Simon’s hand, Negan already gulping down a red cup. 

“Coming?” Noah says with a smile and pops open his door and hops out.

Carl nods, mostly to himself, as he climbs out of the car, making sure to smooth his palms down his shirt.

Negan has already disappeared into the house, which is great because maybe Carl won’t have to see him again for the rest of the night. Considering the number of people crammed into this place, he probably won’t.

This will be a _long_ night.


	2. TWO

Negan has already disappeared into the house, which is great because maybe Carl won’t see him again for the rest of the night. Considering the number of people crammed into this place, he probably won’t.

He follows Noah and Simon into the crowded living room and is handed a red cup. He turns to decline with a polite “No, thank you,” but it’s too late and he doesn’t have a clue who gave it to him. He sets the cup on the counter and continues to walk through the house with them.

They stop walking when they reach a group of people crowded on and around a couch. He assumes they are friends with Simon, that Noah doesn’t seem to know them either. Unfortunately, Negan is on the right arm of the couch, but Carl avoids looking at him as Simon introduces him and Noah to the group.

“This is Noah and his roommate, Carl. They just got here yesterday so I figured I would show them a good time for their first weekend at GSU,” Simon explains.

One by one they nod or smile at them. All of them seem so friendly, except Negan, of course. A very skinny boy with pale skin reaches out his hand and shakes Carl’s hand after Noah’s. His hands are slightly cold from the drink he was holding, but his smile is warm but crooked.

“I’m Dwight, but everyone calls me D. What’s your major?” he asks Carl.

“I’m an video gaming and film major,” Carl says proudly, smiling. Negan snorts but everyone ignores him.

“Awesome,” Dwight says. “I’m into pickles.” He laughs and Carl returns one.

Pickles? What does that even mean?

“Want a drink?” he asks before Carl can inquire further about pickles.

“Oh, no. I don’t drink,” Carl tells him and Dwight tries to hide his smile.

“Leave it to Simon to bring Mr. Rogers to a party,” a girl --Sherry-- says under her breath.

Carl pretends not to hear her so he can avoid any kind of confrontation. Mr. Rogers? Says the girl sleeping with someone else while she still has a boyfriend. What was the guy’s name, Dwayne? No, shit, Dwight. The nice guy he just met. Crap.

“I’m going to get some air,” Carl says and turns to walk away. He needs to avoid party drama at all costs. He don’t need to make any enemies when he doesn’t have any friends to begin with. Well, he has Noah and Beth but still.

He shakes his head and makes his way to the door. He shouldn’t have come. He should be skyping with Lydia, whom he misses terribly. Even sleeping would be better than sitting outside this dreadful party with a bunch of drunken strangers. He decides to text Lydia, walking to the edge of the yard, since it seems to be the least crowded space.

*I miss you. College isn’t very fun so far.* he pushes send and sits on the stone wall waiting for her reply.

A group of drunk girls walk by giggling and stumbling over their own feet.

She responds quickly: *Why not? I miss you too, Carl. I wish I was there with you* and he smiles at her words.

“Shit, sorry!” a male voice says and a second later Carl feels cold liquid soak the front of my shirt. The guy stumbles and pulls himself up to lean against the low wall. “My bad, really,” he mumbles and sits down.

This party could not get any worse. First Sherry called him Mr. Rogers, and now his shirt is soaked with God knows what type of alcohol—and it really smells. Sighing, he picks up his phone and walks inside to find a bathroom. He pushes his way through the crowded hall and tries to open every door on the way, none of them budging. He tries not to think about what people are doing in the rooms.

He makes his way upstairs and continues his hunt for a bathroom. Finally, one of the doors does open. Unfortunately, it’s not a bathroom. It’s a bedroom, and, even more unfortunate for me, it’s one in which Negan is lying across the bed while the Sherry straddles his lap, her mouth covering his.

 

Sherry turns around and looks at Carl as he tries to move my feet, but they just won’t budge. “Can I help you?” she snarks.

Negan sits up with her still on his torso. His face is flat—not amused or embarrassed at all. He must do this type of thing all the time. He must be used to being caught in frat houses practically having sex with strange girls.

“Sorry, I thought this was a bathroom,” he quickly explains. This is so uncomfortable. Sherry presses her mouth against Negan’s neck and he looks away. These two seem to be a good match. Both horrible and rude. Isn't her boyfriend downstairs?

  
“Okay? So go find a bathroom.” She rolls her eyes and Carl nods, leaving the room. After the door closes he leans his back against it. So far college isn’t fun at all. He just can’t wrap his head around how a party like this could be considered fun. Instead of trying to find a bathroom, he decides to find the kitchen and clean himself off there. The last thing he wants to do is open another door and find drunken hormonal college students on top of one another. Again.

The kitchen isn’t too hard to find, but it’s crowded since most of the alcohol supply is in ice buckets on the counter and stacks of pizza boxes fill the countertops. He grabs a paper towel and wets it. As he wipe down his shirt, small white flakes of the cheap paper towel cover the wet spot, making it worse. Frustrated, he groans and lean against the counter.

“Having fun?” Simon asks as he approaches me. He is a little relieved to see a familiar face. He smiles and takes a sip of his drink.

“You can say that,” Carl sighs dryly. “How long do these parties last?”

“At least twenty four hours.” Simon laughs and Carl mouth drops. When would Noah want to leave? Hopefully soon.

“Wait.” He begins to panic. “Who’s going to drive us back to the dorm?” As Carl takes in Simon’s bloodshot eyes. Shit.

“I don’t know . . . you can drive my car if you want,” he says.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll figure it out,” Carl manages before the music gets turned way up and most everything is drowned out by bass and lyrics that are practically screamed.

His decision to come to this party is proving to be worse and worse as the night goes on.

Finally, after pointing around and yelling “Noah!” like ten times at Simon, the music drops into a quieter song and he nods and starts to laugh. His hand moves up into the air and he points into the next room. He is seems nice—why does he hang out with Negan?

Noah is slow dancing with Beth, her head resting against his chest. Oh, he can't ruin their moment. He doesn't want to cockblock anyone.

“They’re just dancing,” Simon says and gives a quick chuckle at Carl’s uneasy expression.

  
Now, he has no one.

He wishes he can dance with Lydia.

Lydia!

He reaches into his pocket and checks his messages from her.

*You there Carl?*

*Hello? You okay?*

*Carl? Should I call your dad? I’m getting worried.*

He dials her as fast as his fingers will allow, praying that she hasn’t called his father yet. She doesn’t pick up, but he texts her assuring that he’s okay and there is no need for her to call anyone. His father will lose it if he thinks something happened to him in his first weekend of college.

“Hey, Carl,” Noah says, coming up to him, holding a very drunk Beth. He seems drunk himself but not that drunk. “I'm going to take her upstairs in one of the rooms before she passes out. Come up when you’re ready.”

Simon helps Noah with Beth, carrying her upstairs. Carl runs a hand through his hand. Great, they have to spend the night here.

Carl heads upstairs few a minutes of listening the music and turns into an open room, closing the door.

He sees his two friends on the floor, both passed out and Carl feels like he has hit a new low. He turns on a lamp and looks around the room, his eyes immediately going to the trophy case. He sees signed autographed baseballs, a wooden bat lined in barb wire and classic baseball cards.

Whoever owns this collection is impressive; there are many classics, a whole range of different types of sports items and Carl isn't that into sports. He picks up the barb wire bat and runs his fingers down the wood, careful not to cut himself.

He doesn't even realize the presence of a fourth person in the space.

“Why the hell are you in my room?” an angry voice booms from behind me.

Carl know that tone by now.

Negan.

“I asked you what the hell you’re doing in my room,” he repeats, just as harshly as the first time. Carl turns to see his long legs pulling him toward him and he snatches the bat from his hands and places it back on top of the trophy case.

Carl’s mind is whirling and he thought the party couldn’t get any worse, but here he is, caught in Negan’s personal place. He rudely clears his throat and waves his hand in front of Carl’s face.

“Simon brought Noah and Beth, my friends, in here,” Carl’s voice is soft, barely audible. Negan takes a step closer and lets out a deep breath. Carl gestures to his bed, causing Negan’s eyes to follow his hand. “They are both drunk—”

“I heard you the first time.” Negan says, clearly upset. Why does he care so much if they are in his room? Wait . . .

“You are a part of this fraternity?” Carl asks him.

“Yeah, so?” Negan answers and takes yet another step closer. The space between them is less than two feet, and when Carl tries to inch away from him his back hits the trophy case. “Does that surprise you, Carlton?”

“Stop calling me Carlton.”

Negan has him cornered.

“That’s your name, isn’t it?” He smirks, his mood slightly lightening.

Carl sighs and turns away from him, basically facing into the wall of trophies. He has no idea where he’s going, but he needs to get away from Negan before he slaps him. Just like Sherry. It has been a long day, so slapping him would be a sight to see.

Carl turns and pushes past him.

“They can’t stay in here,” Negan says as he passes.

When Carl turns around, he says, “Why not? Simon is your friend and he put them in here for a reason.”

“We are,” Negan says, “but no one stays in my room.” His arms crossed over his chest, and for the first time since he's met him, he can make out the shape of one of his tattoos. It’s a flower, printed in the middle of his covered forearm. Negan, with a flower tattoo?

Feeling brave and annoyed, Carl lets out a laugh. “So only girls who make out with you can come into your room?” As the words leave his mouth, Negan’s smile grows.

“That wasn’t my room. But if you’re trying to say you want to make out with me, sorry, you’re not my type,” he says. Carl’s not sure why but his words hurt his feelings. Negan is far from his type, but he would never actually say that to him.

“You are…” He can’t find the words to express his annoyance toward him. The music through the wall is like an itching sensation. He’s embarrassed, annoyed, and exhausted from the party. Arguing with him isn’t worth it. “Well, you take them to another room, and I’ll find a way back to the dorms,” he says and heads for the door.

As he goes through it and slams it shut behind him, even through the noise of the party, he hears Negan’s mocking “Good night, Carlton.”

 

~O~

Carl hates college so far—and his classes haven’t even started. He doesn't belong at parties like this, and he certainly doesn't belong hanging out with these type of people. He likes Noah and Beth, but he can't deal with a scene like this and people like Negan. He’s such a mystery to him; why must he always be such a jerk?

He has no idea where this house is located, or how to get back to the dorms. The more he thinks about his decisions tonight, the more frustrated and stressed he becomes.

The house is still packed and the music's too loud. Simon is nowhere to be found; neither is Dwight. Maybe he should just find a random bedroom upstairs and sleep on the floor? There are at least fifteen rooms up there, and maybe he will get lucky and find an empty one?

He calls Lydia again, and this time she answers on the second ring. He finds a bathroom upstairs and sits on the floor.

“Carl? It’s late, are you okay?” she says, his voice groggy.

“Yes. No. I went to a stupid party with Noah and now I am stuck at a frat house with nowhere to sleep and no way to get back to my room,” Hs explains through the line. He knows his problem isn’t life or death, but he’s beyond frustrated at himself for getting into this overwhelming situation.

“A party? Is that leather jacket guy there?” She questions, sounding more lively.

“Yeah, unfortunately. Noah and Beth are both passed out upstairs.”

“Whoa, why are you even hanging out with that guy? He’s not someone you would ever hang around with,” she says, and the scorn in her voice irritates him. He wanted her to tell him it will be okay, that tomorrow is a new day, something positive and encouraging. Something not so judgmental and harsh.

“I'm not hanging out with Negan, Lydia!” He says with a sigh, but right then the door handle jingles and he sits up. “Just a minute!” he calls to the person outside.

“I will call you back; someone needs the bathroom,” he says to Lydia and hang up before she can protest.

Whoever’s on the other side of the door begins pounding on it and he groans as he hurries to open it. “I said just a min—”

But he stops as Negan’s light eyes connect with eyes.

  
This is the first time Negan hasn’t really made eye contact with him. Amazing, deep, surprised hazel eyes. Negan looks away quickly when Carl pushes past him. He grabs his arm and pulls him back.

“Don’t touch me!” Carl yells, jerking my arm away.

“Have you been crying?” Negan asks, his tone curious. If this wasn’t Negan, Carl might actually think he was concerned for him.

“What? No! Get over yourself.”

Negan moves in front of him, his tall frame blocking Carl’s movements. He can't take more of his games, not tonight.

“Negan, I am begging you, if you have one decent bone in your body you will leave me be. Just save whatever mean comment you are going to say for tomorrow.” He doesn't care if he hears the embarrassment and desperation in my voice. He needs to be left alone by him.

A flash of confusion shows in Negan’s eyes before he opens his mouth. He watches Carl for a moment before any words come out. “There’s a room down the hall you can sleep in. It’s where I put your friends,” he flatly states. Carl waits a second for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. He just stares at him.

“Okay,” Carl quietly says and Negan moves out of his way.

“It’s the third door on the left,” Negan instructs and heads down the hall and disappears into his bedroom.

What the hell was that? Negan without any rude comments? Carl knows what's he’s in for it if he sees him tomorrow. He’s probably got a planner for all his snide comments like Carl does for his classwork, and he’s sure he’s be on Negan’s agenda tomorrow.

The third room on the left is a plain room, much smaller than Negan’s and with two twin beds. It looks more like a dorm room than the larger space that Negan has. Maybe he’s the leader or something? The more likely explanation is that everyone is afraid of him and he bullied his way into the largest room. Beth and Noah are lying across the bed closest to the window, so Carl kicks off his shoes and covers them with the blanket before locking the door and lying down on the other bed.

His thoughts are all over the place as he falls asleep, and images of leather jackets and angry hazel eyes flow through his dreams.

  
~O~

When Carl wakes, it takes his mind a moment to remember the events of last night that led him to this strange bedroom. Noah and Beth are still asleep, snoring unattractively and tangled within each other. He decides to wait until he knows how they are getting back to the dorms before waking them. He quickly put his shoes on and steps out.

Should he knock on Negan’s door or try to find Simon? Is Simon even part of the frat? He would have never guessed that Negan would be a part of an organized social group, so maybe Simon is, too.

Stepping over sleeping bodies in the hallway, he makes my way downstairs.

“Simon?” He calls, hoping to hear a reply. There are at least twenty-five people sleeping in the living room alone. The floor is littered with red cups and trash, which makes it hard to navigate through the mess, but also makes him realize how clean the upstairs hallway actually was, despite the people there. When he reaches the kitchen, he has to force himself not to start cleaning it up. This will take the whole house all day to clean up. He would love to see Negan cleaning up all this trash, and as the thought goes through his head he laughs a little.

“What’s so funny?”

Carl turns around and finds Negan entering the kitchen, a trash bag in his hand. He sweeps his arm over the countertop, making the cups fall into the trash bag.

“Nothing,” he lies. “Does Simon live here, too?”

Negan ignores him and continues to clean.

“Does he?” Carl asks again, more impatient this time. “The sooner you tell me if Simon lives here, the sooner I can leave.”

“Okay, now you have my attention, buttercup. But, no, he doesn’t live here. Does he seem like a frat boy to you?” Negan smirks.

“No, but neither do you,” Carl snaps and Negan’s jaw tenses.

He moves around Carl and opens the cabinet next to his hip, pulling out a roll of paper towels.

“Is there a bus that runs close to here?” Carl asks, not expecting an answer.

“Yep, about a block away.”

Carl follows him around the kitchen. “Could you tell me where it is?”

“Sure. It’s fucking a block away.” The corners of Negan’s mouth lift, taunting him.

Carl rolls his eyes and walks out of the kitchen. Negan’s momentary civility last night was obviously a onetime thing and today he’ll be coming at him full force. After the night he’s had, he can’t stand to be around him.

He goes wake up Noah and Beth. They both wake up surprisingly easy.

“Negan said there is a bus stop around the block,” Carl tells them as they walk downstairs together.

“We aren’t taking the damn bus. One of these assholes will take us back to our room. He was probably just giving you a hard time,” Beth says, her hand resting on my shoulder. As we enter the kitchen and find Negan pulling some beer cans out of the oven, she’s all authority. “Negan, you ready to take us back now? My head is pounding.”

  
How do they know each other?

  
“Yeah, sure, just give me a minute,” he says like he’s been waiting for them all along. Carl resists the urge to scream, but Noah holds his head in his hands.

“Remind me never go drink that much again,” he mumbles and Carl lets it go.

During the drive back to the dorms Beth sings along to whatever metal song is playing through the speakers and Negan rolls all the windows down, despite Carl’s polite requests to roll them up. Silent the whole way, Negan mindlessly drums his long fingers on the steering wheel. Not that Carl was paying attention.

“I’ll come by later, Beth,” Noah tells her as she climbs out of the passenger seat and waves them goodbye.

It doesn't take long for them to reach their dorms when Negan stops the car again. Carl opens the door, desperate to get out as Noah bids Negan a thank you.

“Bye, Carlton!” Negan says with a smirk. Carl rolls his eyes and follows Noah into the dorm.

~O~

  
The rest of the weekend goes quickly and he manages to avoid seeing Negan. When he heads out early Sunday to go shopping, he leaves before Negan will come around and is back when Negan is long gone. Good.

The new clothes he got fills up his small dresser and he can't help but wonder what possessed him to buy more jackets and boots.

Carl has decided that he’s no longer going to be going to parties with Noah, or anywhere that Negan may be. He isn’t good company and bickering with him is exhausting.

Finally it’s Monday morning, his first day of college classes, and he couldn’t be more prepared. He wakes up extra early to make sure he can take a shower—without girls around—and not be rushed. His white button-up shirt and blue jeans are ironed and ready to be put on. He get dressed, fixes his hair and puts his book bag over his shoulders. He knows that Noah’s classes start later than his and at odd hours because of him being in the pre med major.

With one last glance in the mirror, he heads to his first class. Studying the campus map proves to have been a good idea, and hd finds his first building within twenty minutes. When he walks into his freshman history class the room is empty, save one person.

Since this person obviously cares about being on time, too, he sits next to her. She could be his first new friend. “Where is everyone?” He asks her, and she smiles. Her smile alone puts him at ease.

“Probably running across campus to barely make it here on time,” she jokes, and he instantly likes her.

“I’m Carl Grimes,” he says and gives her a friendly smile.

“Enid Greene,” she says with an equally adorable smile as the first one. They spend the rest of the time before class talking. He finds out that she’s in the film major also, and he has a boyfriend named Ron. Enid doesn’t mock him or miss a beat in their easy conversation when he tells her that Lydia is a in community college this year. He decides now that she is someone whom he would like to see more of. As the class begins to fill, they both make a point to introduce themselves to the professor.

Afterward, as the day continues, Carl begins to regret taking five classes instead of four. He rushes to his Media elective—thanking God it’s the last class of the day—and barely makes it on time. He's relieved when to see Enid sitting in the front row, the seat next to her empty.

“Hey again,” she says with a smile as he sits down.

The professor begins the class, handing out the syllabus for the semester and giving a brief introduction about himself, what led to him to become a professor, and his excitement for the topic. Carl loves that college is different from high school and the professors don’t make you stand in front of the class and introduce yourself or do any other embarrassing and unnecessary things.

In the middle of the professor explaining our reading lists, the door creaks open and he hears himself groan as Negan stumbles into the classroom.

“Great,” he says under his breath sarcastically.

“You know Negan?” Enid asks. Negan must have quite the reputation around the campus if someone as sweet as Enid knows of him.

“Sort of. It's complicated. He’s not my favorite person,” he whispers.

As he does so, Negan’s hazel eyes lock with his, and Carl worries that he’s heard him. What would he do if he had? But, honestly, Carl doesn't care if he did—it’s not like he isn’t aware that they don’t care for each other.

He finds himself curious about what Enid knows about him, though, so he can’t help but ask, “Do you know him?”

“Well...” She stops talking and turns slightly to look behind them. He looks up and sees Negan sliding into the desk next to his. Enid stays quiet for the rest of the class, keeping her eyes focused on the professor the entire time.

“THAT’S ALL FOR TODAY. I will see you all again on Wednesday,” Professor Gabriel says and dismisses them.

“I think this will be my favorite class,” Carl tells Enid as they walk outside, and she agrees. But her face falls when they realize Negan is walking next to them.

“What do you want, Negan?” Carl asks, giving him a taste of his own medicine. It doesn’t work, or he doesn't have the right tone for it, because all he seems is amused.

“Nothing. Fuck. I’m just so damn glad we have a class together,” Negan says mockingly and runs a hand over his hair, smoothing it out. Carl notices another small tattoo on his wrist and tries to follow it, curious.

“I’ll see you later, Carl,” Enid says, excusing herself.

“You would find the lamest kid in class to befriend,” Negan says as he watches her go.

“Don’t say that about her; she’s a sweet person. Unlike you.” Carl is shocked by harsh words. Negan really brings out the worst in him.

Negan turns back to him. “Isn't someone fucking feisty today. What did I ever do to you, Carlton?”

“If you call me Carlton one more time,” Carl warns and Negan laughs. He's very attractive, Carl notices but his sour personality ruins him.

  
They begin walking along back in the direction of Carl’s dorm and get about twenty steps when all of a sudden Negan shouts out, “Stop staring at me!” turns a corner, and disappears down a pathway before Carl can even think of a response.

  
~O~

After several exhausting—but exciting—days, it’s finally Friday, and Carl’s first week of college is almost over. Feeling pleased with the way the week has gone overall, he plans on just watching some movies, since Noah will most likely be at a Beth’s and it’ll be quiet. Having all his classes’ syllabi really makes things easier for him, and he can do a lot of the work ahead of time. He grabs his bag and leaves early, stopping by the café to grab a coffee to get an extra shot of energy for the beginning of the weekend.

“Carl, right?” a girl’s voice says behind him as he waits in line. He turns around to see Sherry. Oh, her.

“Yeah. That’s me,” he answers and turns to face the counter, attempting to avoid further conversation.

“Are you coming to the party tonight?” she asks. She has to be mocking him, so, sighing, he turns around again and is about to shake his head no when she says, “You should, it’s going to be awesome.”

He pauses for a moment, but shakes his head and says, “Sorry, I have plans.”

“Too bad. I know Dwight wanted to see you.” At that Carl can’t help but laugh, but she only smiles. “What? He was talking about you just yesterday.”

Why would her boyfriend want to see him? But he doesn't call her out on it.

“I doubt that, but even if he was, I have a girlfriend,” he tells her, causing her smile to grow.

“Too bad, we could have double-dated,” she says ambiguously, and he inwardly thanks God when the barista calls his order. In my haste, he grabs the cup too roughly and a little bit of coffee laps over the edge and burns his hand. He curses, hoping that this isn’t setting the tone for his weekend. Sherry waves goodbye to him and he smiles politely before he exits the shop.

Her comments replay in his mind; Double-date with who? Her and Negan? Are they actually dating? As nice as Dwight may be, Lydia is his girlfriend and he would never do anything to hurt her. He knows that they haven’t spoken much this week, but that’s only because they have both been so busy. He makes a mental note to call her tonight and catch up, see how she’s been doing without me.

After his coffee burn and awkward encounter with Miss Cheater, his day improves. Enid and him had made plans to start meeting at the coffee shop before the classes they have together, so she’s leaning against the brick wall, and as he walks up to him she greets me with a big smile.

“I’m leaving about thirty minutes into class today. I forgot to tell you that I’m flying back to my hometown for the weekend,” she says. He’s happy for her to visit Ron, but he hates the idea of sitting through British Literature without her, and with Negan, if he shows. He was absent Wednesday, not that Carl was paying attention.

He turns to her. “So soon? The semester just started.”

“It’s his birthday and I promised him months back that I would be there.” She shrugs.

 

In class, Negan takes his seat next to Carl but doesn’t say a word, not even when, as promised, Enid leaves thirty minutes into class, which suddenly makes him even more aware of Negan’s presence beside him.

“Monday we begin our weeklong discussion of zombies,” Professor Gabriel announces as class ends. Carl doesn't hide his excitement, and he’s fairly sure that he let out a chuckle.

Although Negan hadn’t really said anything to him all during class, he walks up close beside Carl. He swears he could almost predict what Negan’s going to say with that deadpan look in his eyes.

“Let me guess, you are just madly in love with zombies.”

“Yeah. They’re awesome.” Carl says without meeting his eyes. They reach the intersection and he looks both ways before crossing the street.

“Of course you do,” Negan laughs, continuing to follow him along the busy sidewalk.

“I’m sure you aren’t able to comprehend why zombies are the best thing to ever be created,” His mind goes to the massive collection of sports equipment in Negan’s room. They couldn’t possibly be his. Could they?

“I think the best thing ever created are lighsabers. If I ever had one, I would lighsaber just about every fucking professor in this hellhole,”  
Negan says with a comical expression.

Carl laughs at his choice of words but covers his mouth, stopping himself. He was actually enjoying their little banter, and his presence, but it would only be a matter of time—three minutes, if he’s so lucky—until Negan says something stupid. Looking up, Carl meets Negan’s grin and can’t help but admire his good looks.

“So you do agree that lighsabers are the best thing ever?” He raises his eyebrow.

“No, they are too many cool things but I admit lightsabers are one of them. If you want to talk about Darth Vader, well, that's a different topic all together.” Carl says with a smile.

Negan laughs again and Carl joins him. But after a few seconds, catching himself having a decent laugh with him, Negan stops suddenly and his laughter fades. Something flashes in his eyes. “I’ll see you around, Carlton,” he says and turns on his heel and disappears back where they had come from.

What is with him? Before he can begin to analyze his actions, his phone rings. Lydia’s name flashes across his screen and he feels oddly guilty as he answers.

“Hey, Carl, I was going to text you back, but I figured I might as well call.” Lydia’s voice is clipped, a bit distant.

“What are you doing? You sound busy.”

“No, just on my way to meet some friends at the grill,” she explains.

“Okay, well, I won’t keep you. I’m so glad it’s Friday. I am ready for the weekend!”

“Are you going to another party? Your father is still disappointed.”

Wait—why did she mention it to his father? Since when did they have a close enough relationship for that to happen? He hopes that dating her won’t become like having an annoying sister who tattles on him. He hates to compare her that way, but it’s true.

Rather than getting into it with her, he just tells her, “No, I’m staying in this weekend. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, C. So much. Call me later, okay?”

He agrees and they exchange “I love you’s” before hanging up.

When he gets back to his room, Noah is getting ready for another party, which he assumes is the one Sherry mentioned at the café. Carl logs into Netflix and browse the movies.

“Are you sure you don't want to come? You can watch Netflix any night.” Noah asks and Carl laughs. Carl envies his confidence. He’s confident to a certain extent, but he’s aware that he’s just average compared to most people here.

“I know,” Carl says, humoring him. But then his laptop screen turns black and he presses the power button and waits and waits. The black screen remains.

“It’s a sign.” Noah ticks and combs his hair.

Looking at him, Carl realizes he really doesn’t want to sit in the dorm alone without anything to do or watch.

“Fine,” he says, and Noah claps slowly, being dramatic. “But we’re leaving before midnight.”

~O~

Carl changes out of my pajamas and put on a new pair of jeans that he hasn't worn yet. They are a little tighter than his usual pants, but he’s in desperate need of a trip to the laundry room, so he doesn't have much of a choice. His shirt is a simple black button-up, sleeveless shirt with white trim on the shoulders.

“Nice outfit,” Noah tells him. Carl smiles and grabs a hat off his dresser.

“Sherry is picking us up instead of Simon; she just texted that she’ll be here any minute.”

  
Sherry? Wow. He must of missed when Noah and her became friendly enough of that.

“I don’t think she likes me,” Carl says as he checks himself in the mirror.

Noah cocks her head to one side. “What? She does. She’s just bitchy and too honest sometimes. And I think she is intimidated by you.”

“Intimidated? By me? Why on earth would she be intimidated by me?” Carl says and laughs. Noah clearly has this backward.

“You know how girls are,” Noah says, like that explains everything. “Don’t worry about her, though; she’ll be occupied tonight.”

“By Negan?” Carl asks before he can stop himself. He continues to look at the mirror and tries not to notice Noah’s double take.

“No, by Dwight probably. She bounces between him and Negan every week.”

That’s a harsh thing to say, but Noah just shrugs and adjusts his shirt.

“Isn't she dating Negan or Dwight?”

The image of them making out on the bed comes to mind.

“No way. Negan doesn’t date. He fucks with a lot of girls and guys, but he doesn’t date anyone. Ever. Sherry and Dwight have been dating for a while and break up often because Negan always fucks her when he wants to and when he has no one else really.”

“Oh,” Carl states and can't help but think that Noah said girls and guys. Why would Sherry allow herself to be used like that?

 

The party tonight is the same as last week. The lawn and house are crowded with drunk people everywhere.

Sherry disappears as soon as they arrive, and Carl ends up getting a spot on the couch and is sitting there for at least an hour when Negan walks by.

“You look different,” he says after a short pause. His eyes rake down Carl’s body and back up to rest on his face. He doesn’t even try to be subtle about the way he’s assessing me. Carl stays silent until his eyes meet mine. “Your clothes actually fit you tonight.”

Carl rolls his eyes and adjusts his shirt, suddenly wishing he was wearing his normal loose clothing.

“It’s a surprise to see you here.”

“I’m a bit surprised that I ended up here again,” Carl says and walks away from him. Negan doesn’t follow, but for some reason Carl finds himself wishing he would have.

A few hours later, Noah is drunk again. Well, as much as everyone else is.

“Let’s play Truth or Dare,” Dwight slurs and their small group of friends gather around the couch. Sherry passes a bottle of clear alcohol to Simon and he takes a swig. Negan’s hand is so large that it covers his entire red cup as he takes a sip. Another girl joins the game, making it Negan, Dwight, Simon, Nate’s roommate “Fat Joe”, Sherry, Noah, and a girl named Arat.

Carl is just thinking that a drunken game of Truth or Dare can’t possibly end well when Sherry says with a wicked smile, “You should play, too, Carl.”

“No, I’d rather not,” He tells her and focuses his attention on a brown stain on the carpet.

“To actually play, he would to take that stick out of his ass,” Negan tells them and they all laugh except Noah. His words anger Carl. He doesn't have a stick in his ass. Yeah, he will admit he’s not by any means wild, but he’s not a prude. He glares at Negan and sits down in their little circle, between Simon and Arat. Negan laughs and whispers something to Dwight before they start.

The first few truths and dares include Dwight being dared to chug an entire can of beer, Sherry being dared to flash her bare chest to the group, which she does, and Noah revealing the truth that he lost his virgins when he was thirteen.  
Shit.

“Truth or dare, Carlton?” Negan asks and Carl gulps.

“Truth?” He says, unsure.

Negan laughs and mutters, “Of course,” but Carl ignores him as Simon rubs his hands together.

“Okay. Are you a virgin?” Dwight asks and Carl chokes. No one seems fazed by the intrusive question besides him. He feels the heat in his cheeks and the humor in everyone’s faces.

“Well?” Negan presses. Despite how much Carl wants to run away and hide, he just nods. Of course he’s a virgin; the furthest Lydia and him have ever gone is making out and some slight groping, over our clothes, of course.

Still, no one seems outright surprised by his answer, just intrigued.

“Wait so you have been dating Lydia for two years and you haven’t had sex?” Noah asks, out of genuine surprise. Carl shifts uncomfortably.

He just shakes his head. “Negan’s turn,” he says quickly, hoping to take the attention off himself.

  
“Dare,” Negan answers before Carl can even ask him. His hazel eyes bore into his with an intensity that says “I’m the one on the spot, that I’m the one dared to do something”.

And Carl falters, not having really thought this out, or expecting to be met with such a reaction. What should he dare him to do? He knows he will do whatever it is, just because he won’t want to back down from Carl.

“I dare you to-.”

“To what?” Negan says impatiently. Carl almost dares him to say something nice about each person in the group but he decides against it, however amusing it would have been.

“Take your shirt off and keep it off the entire game!” Sherry yells out, and Carl’s glad. Not because Negan will be taking his shirt off, of course, but because he couldn’t think of anything and it eases the pressure of him having to give him orders.

“How fucking juvenile,” Negan complains, but he lifts his shirt over his head. Without meaning to, Carl’s eyes go directly to his long torso and the scan the small tattoos lined on his tan skin. Noah nudges him, and he tears his eyes away from Negan, praying that no one saw him staring.

The game continues. Sherry kisses Fat Joe and Dwight both. Noah tells us about how he broke his arm. Simon kisses another girl.

How did he find himself in the middle of this group of hormonal college rock-and-roll misfits?

“Carl, truth or dare?” Fat Joe asks.

“Why even ask? We know he will say truth—” Negan starts.

“Dare,” Carl says, surprising them and himself.

“Carl, I dare you to take a shot of vodka,” Fat Joe says, smiling.

“I don’t drink.”

“That’s the point of the dare.”

“Look, if you don’t want to do it . . .” Simon starts to say and Carl looks over at Negan and Sherry sharing a laugh at his expense.

“Fine, one shot,” he says. He thinks Negan will probably have yet another contemptuous expression at this, but when their eyes, he finds Negan giving him a strange look instead.

Someone hands him the clear bottle of vodka. He mistakenly puts his nose against the top, smelling the foul liquid, which burns his nostrils. He scrunches his nose, trying to ignore the chuckles behind him. He tries not to think of all the mouths that have been on the bottle before him, and tilts it back and takes a drink. The vodka feels hot and burns all the way down to his stomach, but he manages to swallow it. It tastes horrible. The group claps and laughs a little—everyone except Negan. If Carl didn’t know him any better, he would think Negan was mad or disappointed. He is so strange.

After a short time, Carl can feel the heat in his cheeks and then, later, the small amount of alcohol in his veins that grows with each round that he is dared to take another shot. He obliges, and he feels pretty relaxed for once.

“Same dare,” Dwight says with a laugh and takes a swig from the bottle before handing it to Carl for the fifth time. He doesn't even remember the dares and truths that have been happening around him for the last few rounds. This time he takes two big drinks of the vodka before it’s ripped from his grasp.

“I think you’ve had enough,” Negan says and hands the bottle to Simon, who takes a drink.

Who the hell is Negan-whatever-his-last-name-is to tell him when he has had enough? Everyone else is still drinking, so he can, too. Carl grabs the bottle back from Simon and takes a drink again, making sure to give Negan a smirk as the bottle touches his lips.

“I can’t believe you have never been drunk before, Carl. It’s fun, right?” Dwight asks and Carl laughs, nodding. Thoughts of my father’s lectures on irresponsibility flood through his mind, but he pushes them back. It’s only one night.

“Negan, truth or dare?” Sherry asks. He answers “dare,” of course.

“I dare you to kiss Carl,” she says and gives him a fake smile.

Negan’s eyes go wide, and though the alcohol is making everything more exciting, Carl really just wants to run away from him.

“No, I have a girlfriend,” he says, making everyone laugh at him for the hundredth time tonight, except for Noah.

“So? It’s just a dare. Just do it,” Sherry says, pressuring him.

“No, I’m not kissing anyone,” Carl snaps and stands up. Without looking at him, Negan just takes a drink from his cup. Carl hopes he’s offended. Actually, he doesn't care if he is. He’s through interacting with him like this. Negan hates him and is just too rude.

As he gets to his feet, the full effect of the alcohol hits me. He stumbles but manage to pull himself together and walks away from the group. Somehow he finds the front door through the crowd. As soon as he’s outside, the fall breeze hits him. He closes his eyes and breathes in the fresh air before going to sit on the familiar stone wall. Before he realizes what he’s doing, his phone is in his hands, dialing Lydia.

“Hello?” She says. The familiarity of her voice and the vodka in his system make him miss her more.

“Hey baby,” he says and bring his knees to my chest.

A beat of silence passes. “Carl, are you drunk?” Her voice is full of judgment. He shouldn’t have called her.

“No? What, of course not,” he lies and hangs up the phone. He presses his finger down on the power button. He doesn't want her to call back. She’s ruining the good feeling from the vodka, worse than even Negan did.

He stumbles back inside, ignoring whistles and crude comments from drunk frat people. He grabs a bottle of brown liquor off the counter in the kitchen and take a drink, too big of a drink. It tastes worse than the vodka and his throat feels like it’s on fire. His hands fumble for a cup of anything to get the taste out of his mouth. He ends up opening the cabinet and using a real glass to pour some water from the sink. It helps the burn a little, but not much. Through a break in the crowd, he see that the group of his “friends” are still sitting in a circle playing their stupid game. Noah missing.

 

How dare Sherry tell Negan to kiss him—she knows that he has a girlfriend. Unlike her, he doesn't go around making out with everyone. Would Negan have gone along with the dare? He doubts it. His lips are so pink and full, and Carl’s head plays an image of Negan leaning over to kiss him and his pulse begins to race.

What the hell? Why is he thinking about him like that? He’s never drinking again.

Minutes later, the room begins to spin and he feels dizzy. His feet leads him upstairs to the bathroom and he sits in front of the toilet, expecting to throw up. Nothing happens. He groans and pulls himself up. He’s ready to go back to the dorms, but he doesn't know where Noah is.

Before he can stop himself, his hand is turning the knob on the only room he’s somewhat familiar with in this oversize house. Negan’s bedroom door opens without a problem. He claims to always lock his door, but he’s proving otherwise. It looks the same as before, only this time the room is moving around beneath his unsteady feet. Negan’s comments about the zombies and Star Wars replay in his mind. He’s obviously interested in that—and understood it—more than what he had led on. He grabs Negan’s graphic novel about space zombies and smiles. His eyes scan the pages and the room stops spinning.

He doesn't even here when the door opens.

“What part of ‘No One Comes Into My Room’ did you not understand?” Negan shouts. His angry expression scares Carl, but somehow humors him at the same time.

“Sorry. I-”

“Get out,” Negan spits, and Carl glares at him. The vodka is still fresh in his system, too fresh to let Negan yell at him.

“You don’t have to be such a jerk!” His voice comes out much louder than intended.

“You’re in my room, again, after I fucking told you not to be. So get the fuck out!” Negan yells, stepping closer to Carl.

And with Negan looming in front of him, mad, seething with scorn and making it seem like Carl is the worst person on earth to him, something inside of him snaps. Any composure he had snaps in half, and he asks the question that’s been at the front of his brain without his wanting to acknowledge it.

“Why don’t you like me?” Carl demands, staring up at him.

It’s a fair question, but, to be honest, he doesn't really think my already wounded ego can take the answer.

  
Negan glares at him. It’s aggressive. But unsure. “Why are you asking me this?”

“I don’t know because I have been nothing but nice to you, and you’ve been nothing but rude to me.” And then he adds, “And here I actually thought at one point we could be friends,” which sounds so stupid that Carl pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers while he waits for Negan’s answer.

“Us? Friends?” Negan laughs and throws up his hands. “Isn’t it obvious why we can’t be fucking friends?”

“Not to me.”

“Well, for starters you’re too nosy—you probably grew up in some perfect little model home that looks like every other house on the block. Your parents probably bought you everything you ever asked for, and you never had to want for anything. I mean, who acts like you at eighteen?”

Carl’s mouth falls open. “You know nothing about me, you condescending assshole! My life is nothing like that! My mother cheated on my father with his best friend and got pregnant. My father became an alcoholic and almost lost his job because of it. But then he met Michonne and -- whatever! I got my own job as soon I turned sixteen to help with bills, and I happen to like who I am—sorry if I don’t dress like all those people around you! For someone who tries too hard to stand out and be different, you sure are judgmental about people who are different from you!” He screams and feel the tears well up in his eyes.  
He hasn't talked about his mother or that part of his life in forever so why now?

He turns around so Negan won’t get to remember him like this, and Carl notices that he’s balling his fists. Like he gets to be angry about this.

“You know what, I don’t want to be friends with you anyway, Negan,” he tells him and reaches for the door handle. The vodka, which had made him brave, is also making him feel the sadness of this situation, of their yelling.

“Where the fuck are you going?” he asks, moody and unpredictable as always.

“To the bus stop so I can go back to my room and never, ever come back here again. I am done trying to be friends with any of you.”

  
“It’s too late to take the bus alone.”

Carl spins around to face him. “You are not seriously trying to act like you care if something happened to me.” He laughs. He can’t keep up with his changes in tone.

“I’m just warning you. It’s a bad idea.”

“Well, Negan, I don’t have any other options. Everyone is drunk—including myself.”

And then the tears come. He’s beyond humiliated that Negan, of all people, is seeing him cry.

“Do you always cry at parties?” he asks and ducks his head a little, but with a small smile.

“Apparently,” Carl reaches the door again and opens it.

“Carl,” Negan says so soft that he almost doesn't hear him. His face is unreadable. The room starts to spin again and Carl grabs onto the dresser next to his door. “You okay?” he asks. Carl nods even though he feels nauseous. “Why don’t you just sit down for a few minutes, then you can go to the bus station.”

“I thought no one was allowed in your room,” Carl states, then sits on the floor.

He hiccups and Negan immediately warns, “If you throw up in my room-.”

“I think I just need some water,” Carl says and moves to stand up.

“Here,” Negan says, putting a hand on his shoulder to keep me down and handing Carl his red cup.

Carl rolls his eyes and pushes it away. “I said water, not beer.”

“It is water. I didn’t drink tonight,” he says.

A noise somewhere between a gasp and a laugh escapes him. There is no way Negan didn’t drink tonight. “Hilarious. You’re not going to sit here and babysit, are you?” Carl really just want to be alone in his pathetic state, and his buzz is wearing off, so he’s starting to feel guilty for yelling at Negan. “You bring out the worst in me,” he murmurs aloud, not quite meaning to.

“That’s fucking harsh,” Negan says, his tone serious. “And yes, I am going to sit here and babysit you. You are drunk for the first time in your life, and you have a habit of touching my things when I’m not around.” He goes and takes a seat on his bed, kicking his legs up. Carl gets up and grabs the cup of water. Taking a big drink, I can taste a hint of mint on the rim and can’t help but think about how Negan’s mouth would taste. But then the water hits the alcohol in his stomach and he don’t feel so hot.

He’s never drinking again, he reminds himself as he sits back down on the floor.

After a few minutes of silence Negan finally speaks up. “Can I ask you a question?”

The look on his face tells Carl that he should say no but the room’s still not feeling entirely solid, and he thinks maybe talking will help him focus, so he says, “Sure.”

“What do you want to do after college?”

Carl looks up at him with new eyes. That is literally the last thing he thought Negan would ask. He’s assumed he would ask why he’sa virgin, or why he doesn't drink.

“Well, I want to be an illustrator and create my own graphic novel series. Or comics. I’m hopeful that it becomes popular enough to be turned into a tv show or movie. Whichever one.” He probably shouldn’t be honest with him; Negan will just make fun of him. But when he doesn’t say anything back, Carl starts feeling brave and ask him the same question, earning an eye roll from Negan but no answer.

Finally Carl asks, “Is this your collection?” Pointing to the trophy case.

“Yes,” Negan mumbles.

“Do you have a favorite sport?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

Carl sighs and pick at a his jeans.

“Does Mary Sue know you’re at a party again?”

“Mary Sue?” Carl looks back up at him. He doesn't get it.

“Your girlfriend. She is the biggest fucking loser I have ever seen.”

  
“Don’t talk about her like that, she is nice,” Carl stutters. When Negan laughs, Carl stands up. Negan doesn’t know Lydia at all. “You could only dream of being as nice as she is,” he says sharply.

“Nice? That’s the first word that comes to your mind when talking about your girlfriend? Nice is your ‘nice’ way of calling her boring.”

“You don’t know her.”

“Well, I know that she's stupid. I could tell by her long skirts and pigtails.” Negan’s head rolls back in laughter and Carl can’t ignore his small dimples.

“She doesn't have pigtails,” Carl says, but has to cover his mouth so he doesn't laugh with him at my girlfriend’s expense. Carl grabs the water and takes another drink.

“Well, she has been dating you for two years and you still haven't fucked her yet, so maybe you're a square also.”

Carl spits the water back into the cup. “What the hell did you just say?” Just when he thinks they can get along he says something like that.

“You heard me, Carlton.” Negan’s smile is cruel.

“You’re an asshole, Negan,” Carl growls and throws the half-empty cup at him. Negan’s reaction is exactly what Carl hoped for: complete shock. While he wipes water off his face, Carl staggers to his feet using the trophy case for leverage. A couple of items fall to the ground, but he ignores all that and storms out of the room. He stumbles downstairs and pushes his way through the crowd into the kitchen. The anger he feels has overcome his nausea, and all he wants is to get Negan’s evil smirk out of his head. He spots Dwight’s string blonde hair through the crowd in the other room and go to where he’s sitting with a cute preppy girl.

“Hey, Carl, this is my friend Tara,” Dwight says, introducing us.

Tara smiles at him and offers the bottle she’s holding. “Want some?” She asks and passes it to Carl. The familiar burn feels good; it ignites his body again and he momentarily forgets about Negan.

“Have you seen Noah?” He asks, but Dwight shakes his head. “I think him and Beth may have left.”

They left? What the hell? He didn't know even that Beth was here.

  
This must be why people drink all the time. He vaguely remember having sworn off alcohol at some point tonight, but it’s not so bad.

Fifteen minutes later, Dwight and Tara have Carl laughing so hard that his stomach hurts. They are much better company than Negan. “You know Negan is a real ass,” Carl tells them, which elicits wide grins from them both.

“Yeah, he can be sometimes,” Dwight says and snakes his arm around Carl. He wants to move it but he doesn't want to make it awkward because he knows he doesn’t mean anything by it. Soon the crowd starts to die down and he starts to feel tired. It dawns on him that he has no way to get back to the dorms.

“Do the buses run all night?” He slurs. Dwight shrugs, and just then Negan’s jet black hair appears in front of him.

“You and Dwight then?” His voice is thick with an emotion that Carl can’t quite register.

He gets up and push past Negan, but Negan grabs his arm. He has no boundaries. “Let go of me, Negan.” Looking for another cup to toss in his face, he says, “I’m just trying to find out about the bus.”

“Chill the fuck out, it’s three a.m. There is no bus. Your newfound alcoholic lifestyle has you stuck here again.” The glee in his eyes when he says this is so mocking that it makes Carl want to punch him. “Unless you want to go home with Dwight . . .”

When he lets go of Carl’s arm, he goes back to the couch with Dwight and Tara, because he knows it will irritate Negan. After standing there and nodding for a moment, Negan turns in a huff. Hoping that that same room from last weekend is empty, he tells Dwight to take him upstairs so they can find it.

They find the room. Unfortunately one of the beds is occupied by a snoring, passed-out guy.

“At least that bed is empty!” Dwight says and laughs. “I’m going to walk back to my place, if you want to come. I have a couch you could sleep on,” he says.

Cutting through the haze to try to think clearly for a second, Carl conclude that Dwight, like Negan, hooks up with a lot of different girls. If he agrees to this it could mean he’s offering to kiss him. He has a feeling Dwight has no problem getting anyone. He's attractive enough and his personality is nice.

“I think I will just stay here in case Noah comes back,” he says.

Dwight’s face falls a little but he gives me an understanding smile. He tells Carl to be careful and gives him a hug goodbye. The door closes as he leaves and he can’t help but lock it. Who knows who will come in? He looks over at the comatose snorer and feel secures that he isn’t waking up anytime soon. The tiredness he felt downstairs has somehow faded, his mind going back to Negan and his comment about how he hasn’t slept with Lydia yet. It may seem strange to Negan, who’s with a different girl every weekend, but Lydia isn’t like that. They didn't need to have sex; we have fun together doing other things like going the movies and going for conventions.

With that in mind, he lies down, but quickly find myself staring at the ceiling, counting the tiles in an attempt to go to sleep. Occasionally the drunk guy rustles around on the other bed, but eventually his eyes close and he begins to drift off.

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” a deep voice suddenly slurs in his ear. He jumps up and his head bumps Carl’s chin, causing him to bite his tongue. His hand is on the bed, inches away from Carl’s thighs. His breathing is ragged and smells like vomit and liquor. “What’s your name, handsome?” he breathes, and Carl gags. He lifts one thin arm up to push him away from him, but it doesn’t work, and the stranger just laughs.

“I’m not going to hurt you—we’re just going to have some fun,” he says and licks his lips, leaving a string of saliva down his chin.

Carl stomach turns and he can think to do is to knee him, hard. Hard and right there. The stranger grabs his crotch and stumbles back, giving Carl a chance to bolt. Once his shaky fingers finally open the lock, he rushes out into the hallway, where several people give him odd stares.

“Come on, come back here!” He hears the disgusting voice say, not too far behind him. Strangely, nobody seems fazed by a guy being chased down the hall. The stranger is only a few feet away, but fortunately is so drunk he keeps stumbling into the wall. Carl’s feet act of their own accord, taking him down the hall to the only place he knows in this damned fraternity house.

“Negan! Negan, please open the door!” He yells, one hand banging on the door and one trying to twist the locked doorknob.

“Negan!” He screams again and the door flies open. Carl doesn't know what made him come to his room of all places, but he would take Negan’s judgmentalism over the drunk guy trying to have his way with him any day.

“Car?” Negan asks, seeming confused. He wipes his eyes with his hand. He is wearing only black boxer briefs, and his hair is jutting out all over his head. Weirdly, Carl is more surprised by how good he looks than by the fact he called me “Car” for once instead of “Carlton.”

“Negan, please can I come in? This guy-” Carl says and Negan looks behind him. Negan pushes past him and looks down the hall. His eyes meet his stalker, and the creep changes from scary to frightened. The creep looks at Carl one more time before turning around and walking back down the hall.

“Do you know him?” Carl’s voice is shaky and small. Shit. He is too wasted to even defend himself.

  
“Yeah, get inside,” Negan says and pulls him by his arm into the room. He can’t help but note the way his muscles move under his inked skin as he walks to his bed. Negan rubs his eyes again. “Are you okay?” His voice is raspier than ever from just being woken up.

“Yeah. I’m sorry for coming here and waking you up. I couldn't defend myself at that—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Negan’s hand runs through his messy hair and he sighs. “Did he touch you?” he asks, without any trace of sarcasm or humor.

“No, he tried, though. I was stupid enough to lock myself in a room with a drunk stranger, so I suppose it’s my fault.” The idea of that creep touching me makes me want to cry, again.

“It’s not your fault that he did that. You aren’t used to this type of situation.” His voice is kind and totally the opposite of his usual tone. Carl walks across the room toward his bed, silently asking him for permission. He pats the bed, and he sits down with his hands in his lap.

“I have no plans on getting used to it. This really is the last time I’m coming here, or to any parties, for that matter. I don’t know why I even tried. And that guy, he was just so-.”

“Don’t cry, Carl,” Negan whispers.

And the funny thing is, Carl hadn’t realized he was. Negan brings his hand up, and Carl almost flinches away, but not before the pad of Negan’s thumb captures the tear from his cheek. His lips part in surprise from his gentle touch. Who is this guy and where is the snarky, rude Negan? He looks up to meet his hazel eyes and his pupils dilate.

“I hadn’t noticed how blue your eyes are,” Negan says, so low that Carl leans closer to hear him. His hand is still on Carl’s face, and his mind is racing. Their eyes meet, and Carl looks down, unsure of what’s going on. But when Negan removes his hand, Carl looks at his lips once more, and he can feel his conscience and his hormones battling.

But his conscience loses, and he crashes his lips against Negan’s, catching him totally off guard.

  
Carl has no idea what he’s doing, but he can’t stop. As his lips touch Negan’s, he feels his sharp intake of breath. Negan’s mouth tastes just like he had imagined. Carl can taste the faint hint of mint on his tongue as Negan opens his mouth and kisses him.

Really kisses him.

Negan’s warm tongue runs along Carl’s and his body explodes. His entire body feels like it’s been ignited; he has never felt like this before. Negan brings his hand to Carl’s face, cupping his flushed cheeks, before both of his hands go to Carl’s hips. He pulls back a little and plants a small kiss on Carl’s lips.

“Carl,” Negan breathes out, then quickly brings his mouth back to Carl’s, his tongue sliding in once more. His mind is no longer in charge; the sensation has taken over every inch of him. Negan pulls Carl by his hips closer to him as he lies back on the bed, never breaking their kiss. Unsure of what to do with his hands, Carl puts them against Negan’s chest, and then climbs onto his torso. His skin is hot and his chest is moving up and down with his rapid breaths. He pulls his mouth away from Carl’s and he whimpers at the loss of contact, but before he can complain Negan’s at his neck.

Carl can feel every swipe and lick Negan’s tongue makes. His breath moves across him. Negan grabs hold of Carl’s hair to keep it above his head as he continues to kiss Carl’s neck. His teeth graze Carl’s collarbone and he moans, the feeling shooting down his whole body when Negan begins gently sucking on my skin. Carl would be embarrassed if he wasn’t so intoxicated, by Negan and the alcohol. He has never kissed anyone like this, not even Lydia.

Lydia!

Carl says, “Negan stop,” but he doesn't recognize his voice. It’s low and husky, and his mouth is dehydrated.

Negan doesn’t stop.

“Negan!” He says say again, his voice clear and sharp, and Negan lets go of Carl’s hair. When Carl look into his eyes, they are darker, yet softer, and his lips are a deeper pink and swollen from kissing him. “We can’t,” he says. Even though he really wants to keep kissing him, he knows he can't.

The softness in Negan’s eyes disappears and he pulls himself up, knocking Carl onto the other side of the bed. What just happened?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Carl says, and they are the only words he can think of. His heart feels like it will explode any second.

“What for?” Negan says and walks over to his dresser. He pulls out a black T-shirt and pulls it over his head. Carl’s eyes go down to Negan’s boxers again and they are noticeably tighter in the front.

Carl flushes and looks away. “For kissing you...” He says, though something in him really doesn’t want to apologize for that. “I don’t know why I did it.”

“It was just a stupid kiss; people kiss all the fucking time,” he hears Negan say.

His words hurt Carl’s feelings for some reason. Negan knows that Carl doesn't actually like him. He's just drunk and Negan is attractive. It has been a long night and the alcohol made Carl kiss him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he fights down the thoughts of how much he wanted it to happen again. He was just being so nice, that’s why.

“Can we not make a big deal of it, then?” Carl asks. He would be humiliated if Negan told anyone. This isn’t him. He doesn't get drunk, and I don’t cheat on my girlfriend at parties.

“Trust me, I don’t want anyone to know about this, either. Now, stop talking about it,” Negan snaps.

And there’s his arrogance again. “So now you’re back to your old self, I see?”

“I never was anyone else—don’t think because you kissed me, basically against my fucking will, we have some sort of gay bond now.”

Ouch. Against his will? Gay bond?

Carl can still feel the way Negan’s hand gripped his hair, the way Negan pulled Carl on top of him, and the way his lips mouthed “Carl” before kissing him again.

He shoots up off the bed. “You could have stopped me.”

“Hardly,” Negan scoffs.

It’s too humiliating, too painful how he’s basically saying Carl forced him to kiss him. Carl buries his head in his hands for a moment and heads for the door.

“You can stay in here tonight since you have nowhere else to go,” Negan says quietly, but Carl shakes his head. He doesn't want to be anywhere near him. This is all part of his little game. He will offer to let him stay in his room so Carl thinks he is a decent person, then he will probably draw some vulgar design on his forehead.

“No, thanks,” he says and walks out. When he reaches the stairs, he thinks he hears Negan call his name but he keeps going. Outside, the cool breeze feels wonderful against his skin, he sits on the familiar stone wall and turns his phone back on. It’s almost 4 a.m. He should be waking up in an hour to get an early shower and start studying. Instead he’s sitting on this broken stone wall, alone and in the dark.

With a few stragglers milling about, and unsure what to do, he pulls out his phone and scrolls through the text messages from Lydia and his father. Of course she told him. It’s what she would do apparently.

But he can’t even be upset with her. As she had just cheated on her. What would give him the right?

~O~

A block away from the frat house, the streets are dark and quiet. The other frat houses aren’t as big as Negan’s. After an hour and a half of walking and GPS-obsessing, he finally reaches the campus. Fully sober and figuring that he might as well stay awake, he stops at the Walmart and grabs a cup.

As the caffeine hits him, he realizes that there are so many things he doesn't understand about Negan. Like: why is he in a fraternity with a bunch of preppy rich kids if he hates them , and why does he go from hot to cold so quickly?

Carl can’t believe he kissed him. That was the biggest possible mistake he could have made, and the second he let his guard down Negan attacked, worse than ever. He’s not stupid enough to trust that Negan won’t tell anyone, but he hopes his embarrassment over kissing “the virgin” will keep him quiet. He will deny it until dies if anyone asks.

He needs to come up with a good explanation for my father and Lydia for his behavior tonight. Not the kissing—they will never know about that—but why he was at a party. Again. But he also really needs to have a talk with Lydia about telling my mother father; if he’s an adult now, his father doesn’t need to know what he’s doing all the time.

By the time he reaches his dorm, his legs and feet hurt and he actually sigh in relief as he turns the knob.

But then he nearly has a heart attack at the sight of Negan sitting on my bed.

“Oh, come on!” Carl half screams when he finally regain his composure.

“Where the fuck were you?” Negan asks calmly. “I drove around trying to find you for almost two damn hours.”

What?

“What? Why?” As in, if he was going to do that, why didn’t he just offer to take Carl home earlier?

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be walking around at night, alone.”

And because hs can no longer read Negan’s expressions, and because Noah is who-knows-where and Carl is alone here with him, the person who seems to be the real danger to him, all he can do is laugh. It’s a wild laugh, ragged and not really him. And it’s definitely not because he find this funny, but because he’s too drained to do anything else.

Negan furrows his brows, frowning at Carl, which only makes him laugh harder.

“Get out, Negan—just get out!”

Negan looks at me and runs his hands through his hair. Which is at least something; in the little time that he has known this frustrating man that is Negan-whatever-his-last-name-is, he has learned that Negan does that when he is either stressed or frustrated. Right now it’s both.

“Carl, I’m—” Negan begins, but his words are cut off by a terrible pounding on the door, and screaming: “Carl! Carl Grinss, you open this door!”

His father. It’s his father. At 6 a.m., when Negan - a guy he was warned about - is in his room.

Immediately Carl springs into action, as hs always do when faced with his anger. “Shit, Negan, get in the closet,” He whisper-hiss and grabs his arm, yanking him up off the bed and surprising them both with his strength.

Negan looks down at Carl, amused. “I am not hiding in no dang closet. You’re eighteen. Have you lost your fucking mind?”

He says it—and Carl knows he’s right—but he doesn’t know his father. He groans in frustration and his father pounds again. The defiance with which Negan’s arms are crossed over his chest tells Carl that he's not moving, so he checks the mirror, wiping at the bags under his eyes, and grabs his toothpaste, smearing a little on his tongue to conceal the smell of vodka even beyond his coffee breath. Maybe all three scents will confuse his father’s nose or something.

Carl’s ready with a pleasant face and greeting on his lips when he opens the door, but it’s then that he sees that his father hasn’t come alone. Lydia is standing at his side—of course she is. She looks furious. And she looks concerned? Hurt?

“Hey. What are you guys doing here?” Carl says to them, but his father pushes by him and goes straight for Negan. Lydia slips silently into the room, letting him take the lead.

“So this is why you haven’t been answering your phone? Because you have this--” Rick waves his arms around in the direction of Negan. “Someone I told you not to talk to. What is he doing in your room at this time of the morning Carl?!”

Carl blood boils. He’s usually timid and sort of afraid when it comes to him. Rick has never hit him or anything but he isn’t shy when it comes to pointing out his mistakes, when he's made plenty himself.

  
For her part, Lydia just stands there glaring at Negan, and Carl wants to scream at both of them—actually at all three of them. His mother for treating him like a child. Lydia for telling on him. And Negan for just being Negan.

“Is this what you do in college? You stay up all night and bring people back to your room? Lydia was worried sick about you, and we drive all this way to find you running around with these strangers,” Rick says, and Lydia and Carl both gasp.

“Actually, I just got here. And he wasn’t doing anything wrong,” Negan says, and Carl is shocked. He has no idea what he is up against. Still: he’s an immovable object, Rick’s an unstoppable force. Maybe this would be a good fight. His subconscious tempts me to grab a bag of popcorn and sit down in the front row to watch.

His father’s face twists in angry. “Excuse me? I wasn’t speaking to you. I don’t even know what someone like you is doing hanging around my son anyway.”

Negan absorbs the blow mutely and just remains standing and staring at Rick.

“Dad,” Carl says through his teeth.

He’s not sure why he’s defending Negan, but he is. Maybe part of it is that Rick sounds a bit too much like how he treated Negan when he first met him himself. Lydia looks at him, then at Negan and back to him again. Can she tell that he had just kissed Negan? The memory is fresh in his mind and makes his skin tingle just thinking about it.

“Carl, you are out of control. I can smell the liquor on you from here, and I can only assume that this is the influence of your lovely new friend,” Rick says, punctuating it with an accusing finger.

“I’m eighteen, Dad, Christ! I have never drank before and I didn’t do anything wrong. I am just doing what every other college student is doing. I’m sorry that my cell phone battery died, and that you drove all the way here, but I’m fine.” Suddenly exhausted from the last few hours, Carl sits down at his desk chair after his speech and Rick sighs.

Seeing my resignation gives his father a calmer demeanor somehow; he's not a monster, after all. Turning to Negan, Rick says, “Young man, could you leave us for a minute?”

Negan looks at Carl as if asking if he will be okay. Carl nods and he nods back and walks out of the room. Lydia swiftly closes the door behind him, her eyes trailing Negan all the while. It’s a strange sensation, Negan and Carl together against his father and girlfriend. Somehow Carl knows he’ll be waiting somewhere just outside the door until they leave.

For the next twenty minutes, his father sits on Carl’s bed and explains that he is just worried about him ruining his chance at an amazing education and doesn’t want him to drink again. He also tells him that she doesn’t approve of his friendship with Negan or anyone else that may be associated with him. Rick makes him promise that he will stop hanging around with them, and Carl agrees. After tonight, he doesn't want to be around Negan anyway, and he won't be going to any more parties with Noah, so there’s no way his father will know if he’s friendly with any of them or not.

Finally, Rick stands up and claps his hands together. “Since we are already here, let’s go get some breakfast and maybe do some shopping.”

Carl nods in agreement, and Lydia smiles from where she’s leaning on his door. It does sound like a good idea and he’s starving. His thoughts are still a little stifled by alcohol and tiredness, but his walk home, the coffee, and his father’s lecture have sobered him up. He heads for the door, but stop when his father coughs.

“Maybe you should clean up a bit.” Rick smiles, not mockingly. Carl goes get some clean clothes out of his dresser and changes in the closet. He fixes his hair and is ready to go. Lydia opens the door for them, and they all three look at where Negan is sitting on the floor, leaning against the door across the hall. When he looks up, Lydia grasps Carl’s hand, tightly, protectively.

Still, Carl finds myself wanting to pull his hand away from her. What is wrong with him?

“We are going to go into town,” Carl tells Negan.

In response, Negan nods several times, like he’s answered some questions deep within himself. And for the first time he looks vulnerable, and maybe a little hurt.

He’s humiliated you, Carl’s subconscious reminds him. Which is true, but he can’t help feeling guilty as Lydia pulls him along past Negan and Rick gives Negan a victory smile, causing Negan to look away.

“I really don’t like that guy,” Lydia says, and Carl nods.

“Me, either,” he whispers.

But he knows he’s lying.

~O~

Breakfast with Lydia and his father is agonizingly slow. His father continues to bring up Carl’s “wild night” and finds every opportunity to ask him if he’s tired or hungover. Granted, last night was very out of character for him, but he doesn’t really need to hear about it over and over.

“Where should we shop?” Lydia asks between mouthfuls of pancake, and Carl shrugs. He wishes she had just come alone. He would love to spend time with her. He does need to have a talk with her about not telling his father every detail of his life, especially the bad, and if they were just alone that would be easier, too. And things would have been easier if Michonne was here, his father always relaxes and treats him better when she’s around because of her calming aura. She's the only one to treat him like an adult and not a child, even at a young age.

But he doesn't ask his father is where Michonne is because he doesn't want to hurt his feelings.

“Maybe we should go to the mall around the block. I’m not really familiar with the area yet,” he tells them, cutting the last few bites of his French toast into pieces.

“Have you thought about where you want to work yet?” Lydia asks.

“I’m not sure yet. A video game store maybe? I wish I could find an internship or something related to gaming or film,” He tells them, which elicits from his father an award-winning proud smile.

“That would be great, somewhere you could work until you finish college and that could then hire you full-time,” Rick says, smiling again.

Carl tries to hide his sarcasm with “Yeah, that would be ideal,” but Lydia catches it and grabs his hand to give it a little conspiratorial squeeze under the table.

As he puts the fork into my mouth, he is reminded of Negan. And he pauses for a moment. Lydia catches this, too, and looks at him with questioning eyes.

He needs to stop thinking about Negan. Now. He smiles at Lydia and pulls her hand up to kiss it.

After breakfast his father drives them to the Alexandria Mall, which is huge and crowded. “I am going to go into Nordstrom’s to pick up something for Michonne, so I’ll call you when I am ready,” Rick tells them, much to Carl’s relief. Lydia takes his hand again and they browse through a bunch of stores. Lydia tells him about her experience at her college and how she likes. Carl listens intently and tells her how great it all sounds.

“You look nice today,” Carl says and she smiles. Her perfect white smile is adorable. She is wearing a maroon cardigan, khakis pants and boots.

“You do, too, Carl,” she says and Carl cringes. He knows he looks like hell, but she is too unfalteringly kind to tell me so. Unlike Negan, who would tell him in a heartbeat. Ugh, Negan. Desperately wanting to get my mind off Mr. Ass, he pulls Lydia into him by the neck of her cardigan. When he goes to kiss her, she smiles but pulls away.

“What are you doing, Carl? Everyone’s staring at us.” She gestures toward a group of adults trying on sunglasses at a kiosk.

Carl shrugs playfully. “No, they aren’t. And so what?” He really doesn't care; usually he would, but he needs her to kiss him. “Just kiss me, please,” he practically begs.

Shs must see the desperation in his eyes because she grabs his chin and kisses him. It’s gentle and slow, no urgency behind it. Her tongue barely touches his but it’s nice. Familiar and warm. He waits for a fire to ignite within him, but it doesn’t.

He can’t compare Lydia to Negan. Lydia is my girlfriend, whom he loves, and Negan is a jerk who has a roster of girls and guys he hooks up with.

“What’s gotten into you?” Lydia teases as he tries to pull her body against his.

He flushes and shakes his head. “Nothing, I just missed you, that’s all,” he tell her. Oh and I cheated on you last night, his subconscious adds. Ignoring that, he says, “But, Lydia, could you please stop telling my father when I do things? It makes me really uncomfortable. I love you two have gotten close all of a sudden but I feel like a child when you basically tell on me.” It feels good to get that off his chest.

“Carl, I am so sorry. I was just worried about you. I promise I won’t do it again. Honestly.” She wraps her arm around under his and kisses his cheek, and he believes her.

The rest of the day is better than the morning, mostly because his father takes him to the barber and to get hair trimmed and added in some reddish streaks to it. It still touches his shoulder but with his new cut it has more volume and looks much better.

Lydia showers him with compliments the entire drive back to his dorm, and everything just feels right. He says goodbye to them at the front door, once again promising to stay away from anyone with a tattoo and within a hundred-mile radius. When he walks into his dorm room, he feels a tinge of disappointment to find it empty, but he’s not sure if he was hoping to see Noah or someone else.

He doesn't even bother taking his shoes off before he lies in my bed. He's too exhausted and in need of sleep. He sleeps the night away and doesn't wake up until noon. When he wakes up, Noah’s asleep in his bed. He goes study for the rest of Sunday, and when he returns Noah’s gone. Monday morning he’s still not back, and realizes that he must be staying with Beth.

Carl sighs and thinks about nothing and everything at the same time.


	3. THREE

  
Before heading to his first class, Carl’s stop to grab his usual at the coffeehouse, where Enid is waiting for him with a smile. After their hellos, their interrupted by a girl asking for intricate directions, and so they don’t get the chance to catch up until they’re walking to their last class of the day. The class that all day he has been dreading, but anticipating.

“How was your weekend?” Enid asks and he groans.

“Terrible, actually. I went to another party with Noah,” He tells hers and she makes a sour face and laughs. “I’m sure yours was much better. How is Ron?”

Her smile grows at the mention of his name and he realizes that he didn’t mention seeing Lydia on Saturday. Enid tells him about Ron applying to a dance company in New York and how happy she is for him. All the while, he wonders if Lydia’s eyes light up like that when she talks about him.

As they walk into class, she's telling him how how her adoptive father and mother were thrilled to see her, but Carl finds himself searching the room and not listening very closely to her; Negan’s seat is empty.

“Won’t it be hard if Ron is gone so far?” He manages to ask as they take their seats.

“Well, we are already far from each other now, but it works. I really just want the best for him, and if New York is it, that’s where I want him to be.”

The professor walks in, silencing us. Where’s Negan? He wouldn’t skip class just to avoid him, would he?

They dive into zombies—a magical topic to read and discuss—and before he realizes it the class is over.

“You’ve cut your hair, Carl.”

He turns around to see Negan smiling behind him. Enid and Negan exchange awkward stares and Carl tries to think of what to say. Negan wouldn’t mention the kiss in front of Enid, would he? Those dimples, deep as ever, tell him that yes, yes he would.

“Hey, Negan,” he says.

“How was your weekend?” Negan’s expression is so smug.

Carl pulls Enid by the arm. “Good. Well, see you around!” He yells nervously and Negan laughs.

When they're outside, Enid asks, “What was that about?” obviously catching on to his strange behavior.

“Nothing, I just don’t like Negan.”

“At least you don’t have to see him often.”

But there is something behind her voice, and why would she say that? Does she know about the kiss?

“Um, yeah. Thank God,” is all he can muster.

She pauses. “I wasn’t going to say anything, because I don’t want you to associate me with him, but”—she smiles nervously—“Negan is kinda of my brother.”

What? “What?”

“Negan is my—”

“Yes, yes, I got that, but how? Aren't you adopted? Are you guys biologically related? Why didn't you tell me before?” Carl floods Enid with questions before he can stop himself. She looks confused, but less nervous than a moment ago.

“We both grew in the same foster home and have the same adoptive parents. They live close be here. But, Negan doesn't really get along with them. We’re aren't biologically related and I didn't tell you because I don't think he wants people to know. Did I answer all your questions?”

Carl nods. “Sure, okay.” A thousand more questions come to his mind, but he stays quiet as his friend goes back to talking about Ron, her eyes brightening with each word about him.

When he gets back to his room, Noah isn’t back yet since his classes hours past his. He starts to lay out his books and notes to get ready to study, but decides to call Lydia instead. She doesn’t pick up, and it really makes him wish she was here with him at college. It would make things so much easier and comfortable. They could be studying or watching a movie together right now.

Still, he knows that him thinking about this because of his guilt about kissing Negan is consuming him—Lydia is so sweet and she doesn’t deserve to be cheated on. He’s so lucky to have her in his life. She's always there for him, and she knows him better than anyone. They have known each other basically their whole lives. When his parents separated and his father moved, he was ecstatic to have someone his age to hang out with, and the feeling only grew as he got to know her. They spent time reading, watching movies, and bringing life into the treehouse behind his father’s place. The treehouse has always been his safe haven; when his dad drank he would hide in there and no one except Lydia knew where to find him.

The night his dad found Michonne, everything changed. His father cleaned up his act and he grew closer to his dad. He hasn't seen his mother in almost six years and it still hurts him but she has to be the one to reach out since she's the one that left. His mother ruined his life and she didn't even say goodbye, she packed up her things, and left with Uncle Shane - his godfather. Carl was terrified that Shane was coming for him, but it was always Lydia. And he had never been so relieved in all his life to see someone safe. From that day on they were inseparable. Over the years, their friendship turned into more, and neither of them has ever dated anyone else. Not seriously anyways.

  
He texts Lydia that he loves her and decides to take a catnap before he begins his studies. He pulls out his planner and checks his work one more time, he can surely fit in a twenty-minute nap.

Not even ten minutes into my nap, there’s a knock at the door. Figuring Noah must have forgotten his key, he groggily pulls the door open.

Of course it isn’t him. It’s Negan.

“Noah isn’t back yet,” Carl says and walks back to his bed, leaving the door open for him. He’s a little surprised Negan even bothered to knock, since he knows Negan sneaks his way into things anyways.

“I can wait,” Negan says and plops down on Noah’s bed.

  
What does he want with Negan anyways?

  
“Suit yourself.” Carl groans, ignoring his chuckle as he pulls the blanket over his body and closes his eyes. Or rather, trying to ignore it. There is no way he’s going to be able to sleep knowing that Negan is in his room, but he would rather pretend-sleep than face the awkward, rude talk they are bound to have. He tries to ignore the sound of Negan gently tapping the headboard of Noah’s bed until his alarm goes off.

“Going somewhere?” he asks and Carl roll his eyes even though Negan can’t see him.

“No, I was taking a twenty-minute nap,” Carl tells him and sits up.

“You set an alarm to make sure your nap is only twenty minutes?” he says, amused.

“Yeah, I do. So what?” Carl grabs his books and lays them out neatly, in order of his class schedule, and stack the notes for each class on top of them.

“Are you OCD or something?”

“No, Negan. Not everyone’s crazy because they just like things a certain way. There’s nothing wrong with being organized,” Carl snaps.

And he laughs, of course. Carl refuses to look at him, but out of the corner of his eye, he can see him pushing up off the bed.

Please don’t come over here. Please don’t come-

And then he’s standing over Carl, looking down at where he sits on his bed. He grabs Carl’s Literature notes and turns them over a couple of times exaggeratedly like he’s staring at a rare artifact. Carl reaches up for them but—like the annoying jerk Negan is—he lifts them higher, so he stands and swipe at them. But Negan tosses them in the air and they fall to the ground in a scattered mess.

“Pick those up!” Carl demands.

Negan smirks and says, “Okay, okay,” but just grabs his Sociology notes and does the same thing to them. Carl scrambles to pick them up before he steps on them, but that’s only funny to him.

“Negan, stop!” He yells, just as he does the same with the next stack. Infuriated, he stands up and shoves him away from his bed.

“You mean, someone doesn’t like their stuff being messed with?” Negan asks, still laughing. Why must he always laugh at him?

“No! I don’t!” Carl yells and goes to shove him again. Negan steps toward him and grabs his wrists, pushing Carl back against the wall. His face is inches from Carl’s now, and suddenly he’s aware he’s breathing way too hard. Carl wants to scream at him to get off of him, to let him go, and demand that he put his work back. He wants to slap Negan, to make him leave. But he can’t. He’s frozen against the wall and mesmerized by his hazel eyes burning into his. “Negan, please,” are the only words he finally finds. But they are soft. And he's not sure if he’s begging Negan to let him go, or kiss him. His breathing still hasn’t slowed; he can feel Negan’s increasing, the way his chest rises powerfully. Seconds feel like hours, and finally he removes one hand from Carl’s wrists, but the other is large enough to hold both.

For a second, Carl thinks he might slap him. But Negan’s hand moves up to his cheekbone and then he gently tucks Carl’s hair behind his ear. He swears he can hear his pulse as he brings his lips to his—and the fire crackles under Carl’s skin.

This is what he’s has been longing for since Saturday night. If he could only feel one thing for the rest of his life, this would be it.

He didn't let himself think about why he is kissing him again or what terrible thing he will say afterward. All he wants to focus on is the way Negan’s his body presses against his when he lets go of Carl’s wrists, pinning him to the wall, and the way his mouth tastes like mint again. The way Carl’s tongue somehow follows his, and the way his hands slide over Negan’s broad shoulders. His hands grip the backs of Carl’s thighs and he lifts him up, Carl’s legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and he’s amazed at the way his body somehow knows how to respond to him. He buries his fingers in through Carl’s hair, gently tugging at it while he walks back toward Carl’s bed, his lips still molded to him.

The responsible voice inside his head finds him way in, reminding him that this is a terrible idea—but he pushes him back. He’s not stopping this time. Carl pulls Negan’s hair harder, earning a moan from him. The sound elicits one of his own, the two mixing in the most heavenly way. It is the hottest sound he’s ever heard and he wants to do anything he can to hear it again. Negan sits back on Carl’s bed, pulling him so Carl is on his lap. His long fingers dig into Carl’s skin, but the pain is wonderful. His body begins gently rocking back and forth on his lap, and Negan grip tightens.

“Fuck,” Negan breathes into Carl’s mouth, and Carl experiences a sensation he’s never felt before as he feels Negan harden against him. He’s getting hard too.

How far will he let this go? He asks himself, but he doesn't have an answer.

Negan hands find the hem of Carl’s shirt, and he tugs at it, pulling it up. Carl can’t believe he’s letting him, but he doesn't want to stop. Negan pulls away from their heated kiss to get the shirt over Carl’s head. His eyes meet Carl’s, then go down to his chest as he takes his lip between his teeth.

“Fuck, Carl, you're so fucking sexy.”

The idea of dirty talk never appealed to Carl, but somehow Negan saying those words becomes the most sensual thing he’s ever heard. To try to get such thoughts out of his head, he rocks harder against Negan’s lap, and he wraps his arms around Carl’s back and pulls Carl’s body to his, their chests touching-.

The door handle jingles. Carl pushes himself off Negan’s lap and throws his shirt on, the trance he was in immediately broken.

Noah steps through the door and stops short when he sees Carl and Negan. As he takes in the scene before him, he gapes in shock.

Carl knows his cheeks are bright red not only from the embarrassment but from the way Negan has made him feel.

“What the hell did I miss?” Noah gasps, staring at them both with a weird expression. Carl swears his eyes are practically clapping with glee and disappointed?

“Nothing much,” Negan says and stands. He walks to the door and doesn’t look back as he walks out of the room, where Carl’s left panting and Noah is left speechless.

“What the actual hell was that!?” Noah asks him and then covers his face in horror. “You and Negan are like messing around?”

Carl turns and pretends to look through the stuff on his desk. “No! No way! We aren’t messing around,” He tells him. Are they? No, they just happened to kiss, twice. And Negan took his shirt off, and Carl was basically humping him—but they aren’t messing around, like regularly. “I have a girlfriend, remember?”

Noah comes over to face him. “So that doesn’t mean you can’t mess around with Negan—I just can’t believe it! I thought you guys hated each other. Well, Negan hates everyone. But I thought he hated you even more than his normal hatred for people,” he says, then laughs. “When did this even, how did this happen?”

Carl sits on his bed and flats out his hair. “I don’t know. Well, Saturday when you left the party I ended up in his room because this creep tried to hit on me, and then I kissed him. We promised to never speak of it again—but then he came by today and he started messing with me, not in that way.” He points at the bed, which only makes Noah smile uneasy. “Like he was throwing my stuff around and I pushed him and then somehow we ended up on the bed.”

It sounds so bad when he repeats it. He really is acting so out of character, just like his father said. He put his hands over his face. How could ge do this to Lydia—again?

“Whoa, sounds messy,” Noah says, and Carl rolls his eyes.

“It’s not—it’s terrible and wrong. I love Lydia, and Negan is a jerk. I don’t want to be another conquest of his.”

“Yeah, you should just break up with Lydia or stopping seeing Negan, forreal this time.”

Carl’s mouth falls open. Is he serious? Noah is right but…

“You’re right, I have Lydia,” He can’t imagine Lydia and him making out like that. His mind replays Negan’s words: Fuck Carl, you're so fucking sexy. Lydia would never say something like that—no one has ever called him sexy before. He feels his cheeks heat up has think about it. But that leads him to another question. “Has Beth and Negan, you know?” He asks a little sheepishly.

“With Negan? No.” And something inside Carl feels better when he says that. But then he continues. “I think they did when they first met, as embarrassing as that is to admit. But nothing came from it; they were friends with benefits for about a week.” Noah says it like it’s no big deal, but Carl can’t help the jealousy that stirs inside him.

“Oh, benefits?” Carl asks. His mouth is completely dry and he finds himself suddenly annoyed by Beth.

“Yeah, nothing too big. Just like a few heavy make out sessions, an grope here and there. Nothing serious, at least from Beth as told me,”he says and Carl’s chest hurts. He’s not surprised really, but he wishes he didn't asked.

“Does Negan have a lot of friends with benefits?” Carl doesn't want to hear the answer, but he can’t help asking.

Noah snorts and sits down on his bed across from him. “Yeah, he does. I mean, not like thousands, but he’s a pretty active guy.”

Carl makes the mental decision for what feels like the hundredth time to stay away from him. He will not be anyone’s friends with benefits. Ever.  
He's not Sherry or Dwight or whoever else Negan has stuck his dick into.

  
“He doesn’t do it to be mean or use anyone; they pretty much throw themselves at him, and he lets them know from the start that he doesn’t date,” Noah says. He remembers someone telling him that before. But it’s not like he said that to Carl when they were-.

“Why doesn’t he date?” Why can’t he stop asking these questions?

“I don’t know, listen,” Noah says, his voice full of concern, “I think you could have a lot of fun with Negan, but I also think this could be dangerous for you. Unless you know you will never develop any sort of feelings for him, I would stay away. I have seen a lot of girls and guys fall for him and it’s not pretty. And I just met him a few weeks ago.”

Negan has already broken so many hearts in only the first few weeks?

Shit.

“Oh, trust me, I do not have feelings for him. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Carl laughs, and hope that it at least sounds genuine.

Noah nods. “Good. So, how much trouble did you get into with your father and Lydia?”

Carl tells him all about his father’s lecture, minus the small details here and there. They spend the rest of the night talking about classes, Beth, and anything he can think of besides Negan.

~O~

The next day Enid and Carl meet at the coffeehouse before class to compare notes for radio productions. It took him an hour to get all his notes in order after Negan’s annoying stunt yesterday. He wants to tell Enid about it but he doesn't want her to think badly of him, especially now that he knows about them being adoptive siblings or whatever. Enid must know a ton about Negan, and he has to keep reminding himself not to ask questions about Negan. Besides, he doesn't care what Negan does.

The day flies by and finally it’s time for Media class. Per usual, Negan is in the seat next to his, but today he doesn’t seem inclined to look Carl’s way at all.

“Today will be our last day on zombies,” the professor informs them. “I hope you all have enjoyed it, and since you’ve all read the some studies on it, why do think zombies are so popular today?”

Several people murmur or randomly flip through their notes like it’ll provide an immediate answer for them, but only Enid and Carl raise their hands, as always.

“Mr. Grimes,” the professor calls on him.

“Well, the first time I read about zombies, I was on the edge of my seat thinking about how they were created and the science behind. It's no different from vampires and other popular supernatural creatures. I think people like that zombies were first human and was turned into something monstrous,” Enid nods at his answer, and he smiles.

“Bull-fucking-shit,” a voice cuts through the stillness. Negan’s voice. Of course.

“Negan? Would you like to add something?” the professor asks, clearly surprised at Negan’s participation.

“Sure. I said bull-fucking-shit. Zombies are popular because people get to do whatever is that they want to do. For instance, bash someone’s skull in with a barb wire bat. Sounds fucking epic, doesn't it?” Negan says, then picks at his fingernails as if he isn’t the slightest bit interested in the discussion. There's audible gasps and shocked murmurs.

  
“That isn’t true, it's not about zombies. It's about that world that you create around them. And no one thinks about bashing people’s skulls unless their psychos and _no one_ wants to sleep with a psycho,” Carl says, much louder than he intended.

Much louder. He looks around the room and finds everyone is staring at him and Negan.

Negan exhales. “I don’t know what kind of people you normally hang around, but let's not be fucking stupid here. If being a psycho means surviving, then sure whatever helps you sleep at night. Truth is, there are no limits, _I get what I want_ at the end of the day,” he says with emphasis, and Carl’s heart drops. But people are slowly getting at what he’s really saying.

“The one reason why you want to carry around a baseball bat is to overcompensate for something!” Carl screams, and then the room really, truly goes silent. Negan’s face is flushed with anger, and Carl can’t imagine his looks much different.

“Says the guy who was on top of this ‘ _overcompensate_ ’ yesterday. Your girlfriend can't even get you hard, maybe that's the _real_ reason why you're so fired up today. How much time did you spend thinking about me as you fisted your dick this morning?!” Negan yells back, his hand gripping the desk.

“Get over your asshole! I will _never_ think about you. In fact, this conversation is fucking over because I don't need to think, talk, kiss, _fuck_ or even look at _you_.” After the words leave Carl’s mouth, he knows that what they have done has been exposed, and snickers and gasps are heard throughout the room.

“Okay, lively discussion. I think that’s probably enough on that topic for today,” the professor begins, but Carl grabs his bag and runs out of the room.

From somewhere behind him in the halls, he hears Negan’s angry voice yell, “You don’t get to run this time, Carlton!”

Carl gets outside and is crossing the green lawn, about to reach the corner of the block, when Negan grabs his arm and Carl jerks it away.

“Why do you always touch me like that? Grab my arm again and I will slap you!” Carl screams. He grabs Carl’s arm again, but he can’t manage to follow through on his promise.

“What do you want, Negan? To tell me how desperate I am? To laugh at me for letting you get to me again? I am so sick of this game with you—I won’t play it any longer. I have a girlfriend who loves me, and you are a terrible person. You really should see a doctor and get some medication for your mood swings! I can’t keep up with you. One second you’re nice, then you’re hateful. I want nothing to do with you, so do yourself a favor and find another girl to play your games, because I’m done!”

“I really do bring out the worst in you, don’t I?” Negan says, his voice quiet.

Carl turns away and attempts to shift his focus to the busy sidewalk next to them. A few confused students’ eyes linger on Negan and him for a beat too long. When Carl faces him again, Negan’s running his fingers across a small hole at the bottom of his worn black T-shirt.

Carl expects him to be smiling or laughing, but he’s not. If he didn’t know any better he would think he was hurt? But he does know better and he knows Negan couldn’t care less. “I’m not trying to play games with you,” he says and runs his hand over his head.

“Then what are you doing—because your mood swings give me a headache,” Carl snaps. A small crowd has gathered around them, and he wants to curl into a ball and disappear. But he has to know what he will say next.

Why can’t he stay away from him? He knows Negan’s dangerous and toxic. He has never been as mean to someone as he is to him. He deserves it, Carl knows, but he doesn't really like being mean to anyone.

Negan grabs his arm yet again and pulls him into a small alleyway between two buildings, away from the crowd. “Carl, I don’t know what I am doing. You kissed me first, remember?” he reminds him.

“Yeah, I was drunk, remember? And you kissed me first yesterday.”

“Yeah, you didn’t stop me.” Negan pauses. “It must be exhausting,” he says.

Huh?

“What must be exhausting?”

“Acting like you don’t want me, when we both know you do,” he says, and steps closer.

“What? I do not want you. I have a girlfriend.” The words tumble out too fast and reveal their absurdity, making Negan smile.

“A girlfriend that you’re bored with. Admit it, Car. Not to me, but to yourself. You’re bored with her.” His voice lowers, and slows to a sensual pace. “Has she ever made you feel the way I do?”

“W-What? Of course she has,” Carl lies.

“No, she hasn’t. I can tell that you’ve never been touched, really touched.”

His words send a now-familiar burn through Carl’s body. “That’s none of your business,” he says and backs away, making Negan take three steps toward him.

“You have no idea how good I can make you feel,” he says, and Carl gasps. How does he go from yelling at him to this? And why does he like it so much? He have no words. Negan’s tone and dirty words make Carl weak, vulnerable, and confused. He has become a rabbit in a fox’s trap.

“Really, you don’t have to admit it. I can tell,” Negan says, his voice thick with arrogance.

But all Carl can do is shake my head. Negan’s smile grows and Carl instinctively back against the wall. He takes a step toward him, and he takes a deep, hopeful breath. Not again.

“Your pulse has quickened, hasn’t it? Your mouth is dry. You’re thinking about me and you have that feeling in your cock. Don’t you, Carl?”

Everything he is saying is true and the more he talks to Carl like this, the more he wants him. It’s strange to crave and hate someone at the same time. The attraction he feels is purely physical, which is surprising considering how opposite he is from Lydia. He doesn't remember ever being attracted to anyone except Lydia.

He knows that if he doesn't say something now, Negan will win. He doesn't want him to have this power over him and win, too.

“You’re wrong,” Carl mutters.

But Negan smiles. And even that sends electricity through Carl.

“I’m never wrong,” Negan says. “Not about this.”

Carl steps to the side before he fully traps him against the wall. “Why do you keep saying I throw myself at you if you’re the one cornering me now?” he asks, his anger pushing past his lust for this maddening leather jacket guy.

“Because you made the first move on me. Don’t get me wrong, I was as surprised as you were.”

“I was drunk and had a long night—as you already know. I was confused because you were being nice to me; well, your version of being nice.” Carl scoots past him and sits down on the curb so he can get out of Negan’s space. Talking to him is so exhausting.

“I’m not that mean to you,” he Negan, looming over him, but it sounds more like a question than a statement.

“Yeah, you are. You go out of your way to be mean to me. Not just me, but everyone. But it still seems like you're _extra_ _hard_ on me.” He can’t believe he is being this honest with him. He knows it’s a matter of minutes before he turns on him.

“That’s just not true. I’m no meaner to you than I am to the rest of the general population.”

Carl shoots up. He knew he couldn’t have a normal discussion with him. “I don’t know why I keep wasting my time!” He yells. He starts walking back toward the main pathway and lawn.

“Hey, I’m sorry. Just come back over here.”

Carl groans, but his feet react before his brain can catch up, and he ends up standing a few feet away from him.

He sits on the curb where hs was previously sitting. “Sit,” Negan demands.

And he does.

“You’re sitting awfully far away,” he says, and Carl rolls my eyes. “You don’t trust me?”

“No, of course I don’t. Why would I?”

His face falls slightly as Carl’s words hit him, but he recovers quickly. Why would Negan care if he trusted him?

“Can we just agree to either stay away from each other, or be friends? I don’t have it in me to keep fighting with you.” Carl sighs, and Negan moves a little closer.

Negan takes a deep breath before he speaks. “I don’t want to stay away from you.”

What? Carl’s heart beats out of his chest.

“I don’t think we can stay away from each other, with Noah being your roommate and all. So I suppose we should try to be friends.”

  
Noah?

  
Disappointment bubbles up from nowhere, but this is what Carl wants, right? He can’t keep kissing Negan and cheating on Lydia.

“Okay, so friends?” Carl says, pushing down this feeling.

“Friends,” he agrees and reaches out his hand for Carl to shake.

“Not friends with benefits,” Carl reminds him as he shakes, only to feel the blood rush to his cheeks.

Negan chuckles and moves his hand to play flaps of his leather jacket. “What makes you say that?”

“Like you don’t know. Everyone already told me.”

“What, about who?”

“You and every other girl and guy.” Carl tries to fake a laugh but it comes out as a cough, so he coughs a little more to try to cover.

Negan raises his eyebrow at him but Carl ignores him. “Well, all those people… are fun.” He smiles as if remembering something and Carl swallows the bile rising in the back of his throat.

“And yeah, I have girls and guys that I fuck. But why would that concern you, _friend_?”

He’s so nonchalant about the whole thing, but Carl is in shock. Hearing him admit to sleeping with other girls and guys shouldn’t bother Carl but it does. He isn’t his: Lydia is. Lydia is. Lydia is, he reminds himself.

“It doesn’t. I just don’t want you to think that I will be one of those people.”

“Aww are you fucking jealous, Carl?” he mocks me, and Carl shoves him. There is no way in hell he will ever admit that.

“No, absolutely not. I feel sorry for the these people.”

He raises his eyebrows playfully. “Oh, you shouldn’t. They enjoy it, trust me.”

“Okay, okay. I get it. Can we please just change the subject?” Carl sighs and lifts his head back to look at the sky. He needs to clear the image of Negan and his parade out of his mind. “So, will you try to be nicer to me?”

“Sure. Will you try not to be so uptight and bitchy all the time?”

Looking at the clouds, Carl dreamily says, “I’m not bitchy; you’re just obnoxious.”

Carl looks at him and starts laughing; fortunately Negan joins in. It’s a nice change from screaming at each other. He knows they haven’t really resolved the big issue here, which is the feelings that he may or may not have for him, but if he just get Negan to stop kissing him, he can focus back on Lydia and stop this terrible cycle before it gets worse.

“Look at us, two _friends_.” Negan says, his southern accent is so cute when he isn’t being rude.

Hell, even then it is, but when his voice is soft his accent makes it so much softer, like velvet. The way words roll off his tongue and through his pink lips - Carl can’t think about his lips. He tears his eyes away from Negan’s face and stands up, wiping his jeans off.

“Those fucking jeans, Carl. If we’re going to be friends you need to not wear them anymore.”

For a second Carl’s hurt, but when he looks up at Negan, he’s smiling. This must be the way he jokes; still rude, but he’ll take this over his usual pure malice.

Carl’s phone alarm vibrates. “I need to get back and study,” he tells him.

“You set an alarm to study?”

“I set an alarm for a lot of things; it’s just something I do.” Carl hopes he just lets this topic go.

“Well, set an alarm for us to do something fun tomorrow after class,” he says.

Who is this and where is the real Negan?

“I don’t think my idea of fun is the same as yours.” I can’t even imagine what “fun” is to Negan.

“Well, we’ll only sacrifice a few cats, burn down only a few buildings-.”

Carl can’t stop the laugh from escaping and Negan smiles back.

“Really, though, you could use some fun, and since we are new _friends_ , we should do something fun.”

Carl needs a few moments to contemplate whether he should be alone with Negan before he answers him. But before he can answer, Negan turns to walk away. “Good, I’m glad you’re aboard. See you tomorrow.”

And he’s gone.

  
Carl doesn't say anything; he just sits back down on the curb. His head is spinning from the last twenty minutes. First, Negan basically offered him sex, telling him that he had no idea how good Negan could make him feel; then, a few minutes later, Negan was agreeing to try to be nice to him; then they were laughing and joking and it was nice. There are still so many questions Carl has about him, but he think he can be friends with Negan, like Noah or Beth is. Okay, not like Beth is, but like Simon or one of their other friends who hang out with him.

This is really the best thing. No more kissing, no more sexual advances from him. Just friends.

But as he walks back to his room, past all the other kids going about without any knowledge of Negan or his ways, Carl can’t quite manage to shake the fear that he just walked into another one of Negan's raps.

~O~

Carl tries to study when he gets back to his room but can’t seem to focus. After staring at his notes for a couple of hours but not having really read anything, he decides a shower might help. When they’re crowded, the coed bathrooms still make him uncomfortable, but no one ever messes with him, so he’s getting used to them.

The hot water feels amazing and loosens up his tense muscles. He should be relieved and happy that Negan and him have reached some sort of truce, but now anger and annoyance have been replaced by nervousness and confusion. He’s agreed to spend time with Negan tomorrow, doing something “fun,” and he’s terrified. He just hopes it goes well; he doesn't expect them to become best friends, but he needs them to get to a place where they don’t scream at each other every time they talk.

The shower feels so good he stays in there for a while, and when he gets back to his room, Noah has already come and left. He finds a note from him saying Beth is taking him off campus for dinner. That’s nice. If Noah and Beth continue to see each other then maybe when Lydia comes to visit they could all go do something together. Who is he kidding? Lydia wouldn’t want to hang out with people like Beth.

He ends up calling Lydia before bed; they haven’t talked all day. She’s so polite, she asks about my day as soon as she picks up. He tells her it was good; he should tell her that Negan and him are going to hang out tomorrow, but he doesn’t. She talks about that the new friends she has made and how classes her going. And he’s happy for her, because she seems really happy to about being home.

The next day goes by way too fast. Enid and Carl walk into Media class, and Negan is already in his seat. “Are you ready for our date tonight?” he asks and Carl mouth falls open. Enid’s does, too. Carl doesn't know why he feels more conflicted about: Negan saying it like that, or how it will affect how Enid sees him. Day one of their quest to become friends is not going well so far.

“It’s not a date,” Carl says to him, then turns to Enid and roll his eyes and nonchalantly say, “We’re hanging out as friends,” while ignoring Negan.

“Same fucking thing,” Negan replies.

Carl avoids him for the rest of the class which is easy since he doesn’t really try to talk to him after that.

After class, as Enid starts putting her stuff into her backpack, he looks at Negan, then quietly says to him, “Be careful tonight.”

“Oh, we’re just trying to get along since I know a few of his friends,” he says, hoping Negan doesn’t hear him.

“I know, you’re really a great friend. I’m just not sure Negan deserves your kindness,” she says, purposefully loud, and Carl looks up at her.

“Don’t you have something else to do besides bad-mouth me? Fuck off, loser,” Negan snaps from behind Carl.

Enid frowns and looks at him again. “Just remember what I said.” She walks away, and he worries about how much he may have upset her.

“Hey, you don’t have to be cruel to her—you guys are practically siblings,” Carl says.

Negan’s eyes go wide, he looks comical. “What did you just say?” he growls.

“You know, the same adoptive parents?” Was Enid lying? Or was he not supposed to mention this. Enid said not to bring up Negan’s relationship with their parents, but he didn’t think she meant the whole thing.

“That is none of your business.” Negan looks angrily at the door where Enid disappeared. “I don’t know why the asshole even told you that. I’m going to have to shut her up, it seems.”

“You leave her alone, Negan. She didn’t even want to tell me, but I got it out of her.” The idea of Negan taunting Enid makes him sick. He needs to change the subject. “So where are we going today?” He asks, and Negan glares at him.

“We aren’t going anywhere; this was a bad idea,” he snaps, turns on his heels, and walks away. Carl stands there for a minute, waiting to see if Negan changes his mind and will come back.

What the hell? He really is bipolar, Carl is sure of it.

Back in his dorm, he finds Dwight, Beth, and Noah sitting on Noah’s bed. He would usually be annoyed with this many unexpected guests, but he really likes Dwight and Beth, and he needs the distraction.

“Hey, Carl! How were classes?” Noah asks and gives him a big smile. Carl can’t help but notice the way Beth’s face lights up when she looks at him.

“They were okay. You?” He puts his books on his dresser and he tells him about his professor spilling hot coffee on himself, making them get out early.

“You look nice today, Carl,” Dwight tells him, and he says thanks and crowd on Noah’s bed with the three of them. The bed really is too small for all of them, but it works. After they have been talking about various weird professors for a few minutes, the door opens and they all turn to see who it is.

It’s Negan. Great.

“Geez, man, you could at least knock,” Beth scolds him and he shrugs. “I could have been naked or something.” She laughs, obviously not angry at his lack of manners.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Negan jokes, and Noah’s face falls while the other three chuckle. Carl can’t find the humor, either; he hates thinking about Beth and Negan together.

“Oh, shut up,” she says, still laughing, and grabs hold of Noah’s hand. His smile returns and he moves a little closer to her.

“What are you guys up to?” Negan asks and sits opposite them, on Carl’s bed. He wants to tell him to get off but he keeps quiet. He thought for a second he had come here to apologize, but now he can see he just came to hang out with his friends, and Carl isn’t one of them.

Dwight smiles. “We were actually going to go to the movies. Carl, you should come.”

Before he can answer, Negan speaks up quickly. “Actually, Carl and I have plans.” There is a strange edge to his voice.

God, he’s so moody.

“What?” Dwight and Noah say in unison.

“Yeah, I was just coming to get him.” Negan stands up and puts his hands into his pockets, gesturing toward the door with his body. “You ready or what?”

His mind screams, No! but Carl nods and slips off Noah’s bed.

“Well, see you all later!” Negan announces and practically pushes Carl out the door. Outside, Negan leads Carl to his car and, surprising him, opens the passenger door for him. Carl stands still with his arms crossed, looking at him.

“Fucking hell, I’ll remember not to ever open another fucking door for you again.”

Carl shakes his head. “What the hell was that? I know full well you didn’t come here to get me—you just got done telling me that you didn’t want to hang out with me!” He yells.

And they are back to yelling at each other. He makes Carl crazy, literally.

“Yes, I did. Now get in the car.”

“No! If you don’t admit that you didn’t come here to see me, I will go back in there and go to the movies with Dwight,” Carl says, which makes Negan clench his jaw.

He knew it. He doesn't know how to feel about this revelation, but somehow he knew Negan didn’t want him to go to the movies with Dwight and that that’s the only reason he’s trying to hang out with him now.

“Admit it, Negan, or I’m gone.”

“Okay, fucking fine! Christ, I admit it. Now get in the fucking car. I won’t ask again,” he says and walks around to the driver’s side.

Against Carl’s better judgment, he gets in, too.

Negan still looks angry as he pulls out of the parking lot. He turns the screeching music up way too loud. Carl reaches down and shuts it off.

“What the fuck? Don't touch my radio again,” he scolds.

“If you’re going to be a jerk the whole time, I don’t want to hang out with you.” Carl says, holding back a smile. If he’s like this, he doesn't care where they are, he’ll hitchhike back to the dorms or something.

“I’m not. Just don’t touch my fucking radio.”

His thoughts go back to Negan tossing his notes into the air, and in turn he wants to yank his radio out and throw it out the window. If he knew he could tear it from the dash, he would.

“Why do you care if I go to the movies with Dwight anyways? Beth and Noah were going, too.”

“I just don’t think Dwight has the best intentions,” he says quietly, his eyes glued to the road.

Carl begins to laugh and Negan frowns. “Oh, and you do? At least Dwight is nice to me.” He can’t stop laughing. The idea of Negan trying to protect him in some way is hilarious. Dwight is a friend, nothing more. Just like Negan.

Negan rolls his eyes but doesn’t give him an answer. He turns the music back on and its guitars and bass literally hurt Carl’s ears.

“Can you please turn it down?” He begs.

To his surprise, Negan does, but leaves it on for background noise.

“That music is terrible.”

Negan laughs and taps the steering wheel. “No, it’s not. Though I would love to know your opinion on what good music is.” When he smiles like this, he looks so carefree, especially with his window down, the breeze blowing through his hair. He reaches one hand up and smoothes his hair back. Carl loves the way it looks when it’s back like that. He shakes the thoughts from his head.

“I like Fall Out Boy and Nirvana,” Carl finally answers.

“Of course you do,” Negan says, and Carl chuckles.

He defends his two favorite bands. “What is wrong with them? They are insanely talented, and their music is wonderful.”

“Yeah, they are talented. Talented at putting people to sleep.”

When Carl reaches across and playfully swats Negan’s shoulder, which he mocks a wince and laughs.

“I love them,” Carl says with a smile. If they could just stay in this playful state, he might actually have a good time. He looks out the window for the first time, but he doesn't really know where we are. “Where are we going?”

“To one of my favorite places.”

“Which is where?”

“You really have to know everything that is going on in advance, don’t you?”

“I like to—”

“Control everything?”

He stays quiet. He knows Negan’s right, but that’s just the way he is.

“Well, I’m not telling you until we get there which will be only about five minutes from now.”

Carl leans back against the leather seat of his car and turns his head to glance at the backseat. A messy stack of textbooks and loose papers rest on one side and a thick black sweatshirt rests on the other.

“See something that you like back there?” Negan catches him by embarrassed surprise.

“What kind of car is this?” Carl asks. He needs a distraction from both not knowing where they are going and Negan calling him out for being nosy.

“1967 Ford Mustang—a classic,” Negan boasts, obviously proud. He goes on to tell Carl all about it even though he has no idea what he is talking about. Still, he likes to watch Negan’s lips as he talks, the way they move slowly as the words are even slower. After looking over at him a few times during the conversation, Negan pretty harshly says, “I don’t like to be stared at,” though he does smile a little after.

  
They start down a gravel road, and Negan turns the music off so that the only noise is the little stones crunching beneath the tires. Carl suddenly realizes they are out in the middle of nowhere. He gets nervous now; they are alone, really alone. There are no cars, no buildings, nothing.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t bring you out here to kill you,” Negan jokes and Carl gulps. He doubts Negan realizes that he’s more afraid of what he might do when alone with him than if Negan was to actually try to kill him.

After another mile he stops the car. Carl looks out the window and see nothing but grass and trees. There are yellow wildflowers across the landscape and the breeze is perfectly warm. Granted, the place is nice and serene. But why bring him here?

“What are we going to do here?” Carl asks him as he climb out of the car.

“Well, first, a bit of walking.”

Carl sighs. So he took him here to exercise?

Noticing his sour expression, he adds, “Not too much walking,” and begins along a part of the grass that looks flattened from being used a number of times.

They're both quiet for most of the walk, save a few rude snips from Negan about Carl being too slow. He ignores him and takes in his surroundings. He’s beginning to understand why Negan likes this seemingly random place. It’s so quiet. Peaceful. He could stay here forever as long as he brought a graphic novel with him. Negan turns off the trail and goes into a wooded area.

Carl’s natural suspiciousness kicks in, but he follows. A few minutes later they emerge from the woods to a stream, or really more of a river. He has no idea where they are but the water looks pretty deep.

Negan doesn’t say anything as he pulls his black T-shirt over his head. Carl’s eyes scan his naked torso. He then bends down to untie his dirty black boots, glancing up at Carl, catching him staring at his half-naked body.

“Wait, why are you undressing?” Carl asks and looks at the stream. Oh no. “You are going to swim? In that?” he says and points to the water.

“Yeah, and you are, too. I do it all the time.” He unbuttons his pants and Carl has to force himself to not stare at the way the muscles in his bare back move when he bends down and pulls them over his legs.

“I am not swimming in that.” Carl doesn't mind swimming, but not in a random place in the middle of nowhere.

“And why is that?” Negan gestures toward the river. “It’s clean enough that you can see the bottom.”

“There are probably fish and God knows what in there.” He realizes how ridiculous he sounds but he doesn’t care. “Besides, you didn’t tell me we were going swimming so I have nothing to swim in.” Negan can’t argue with that.

“You’re telling me you’re the kind of guy who doesn’t wear underwear?” He smirks, and Carl gapes at him, and those dimples. “Yeah, just go in nude. Trust me, I really don't mind.”

Wait, so Negan thought he would come out here and take all his clothes off and swim with him? His insides stir and he gets warm thinking about being naked in the water with Negan. What is he doing to him? He has never, ever had these types of thoughts before him.

“I have on boxers, you creep.” Carl sits on the soft grass. “I’ll just watch,” he tells him.

Negan frowns. Now only in his boxer briefs, the black material is tight against his body. This is the second time Carl has seen him shirtless and he looks even better here, under the open sky.

“Fucking hell, you're no fun. And you’re missing out,” he says flatly. And jumps into the water.

Carl keeps his eyes on the grass and plucks a few blades out, playing with them between his fingers. He hears Negan call, “The water is warm, Carl!” from the stream. From his spot on the grass, he can see the drops of water falling from his jet black hair. He is smiling as he pushes his soaked hair back and wipes his face off with one hand.

For a moment he finds himself wishing he was someone else, someone braver. Like Sherry or Simon. If he was Sherry, would strip down and jump into the warm water with Negan. He would splash around and climb up the bank just to jump back and soak him. He would be fun and carefree.

But he’s not Sherry. He’s just Carl.

“This friendship is fucking sleep worthy so far.” Negan exclaims and swims closer to the bank. Carl roll his eyes and Negan chuckles. “At least take your shoes off and put your feet in. It feels amazing and pretty soon it will be too cold to swim in.”

Putting his feet in wouldn’t be so bad. So he takes his shoes off and roll his jeans up enough to dip his feet over the edge and into the water. Negan was right, the water is warm and clear. He wiggles his toes and can’t help but smile.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” he asks, and Carl can’t help but nod. “So just come in.”

He shakes his head and Negan splashes him with the water. Carl scoots back and scowls at him.

“If you come in the water, I will answer any question that you want, but only one,” he warns.

Curiosity gets the best of Carl and he tilts his head in concentration. There are so many mysteries about him, and here’s a chance to maybe solve one of them.

“This offer expires in one minute,” he says and slips beneath the water. Carl can see his long body swimming under the clear water. It does look like fun, and Negan drives a hard bargain. He knows just how to use his curiosity against him.

“Carl,” he says after his head pops back up above the surface, “stop overthinking everything, and just jump in.”

“I don’t have anything to wear. If I jump in in my clothes, I will have to walk back to the car and ride back soaked,” Carl says, thinking. He almost wants to get in the water. Okay, he knows he does.

“Wear my shirt,” Negan offers, which shocks him, so Carl waits a second for him to tell him he was joking, but Negan doesn’t. “Go on, just wear my shirt. It will be long enough for you to wear in here and you can keep your boxers on, if you wish,” he says with a smile. Carl takes his advice and stops thinking.

“Fine, but turn around and do not look at me while I am changing— don't be a creep!” Carl tries his best to be intimidating, but Negan just laughs. He turns around and faces the opposite direction, so Carl lifts his shirt over my head and grabs Negan as quickly as he can. Slipping it on, he can tell he was right, since the shirt reaches down to the middle of Carl’s thighs. He can’t help but admire the way his shirt smells, like faint cologne mixed with a smell he can only describe as Negan.

“Hurry the fuck up or I’ll turn around,” he says, and Carl wishes he had a stick to throw at his head. He unbuttons his jeans and steps out of them. Folding his jeans and shirt neatly, he puts them next to his shoes on the grass. Negan turns around and Carl tugs at the bottom of his black T-shirt, trying to pull it as far as it will go.

His eyes widen and Carl watches as they rake down his body. Negan takes his lip between his teeth and Carl notices that his cheeks flush. Negan must be cold, because he knows it couldn’t possibly be Carl he’s reacting to.

“Fucking hell, just come in the water, yeah?” Negan says, his voice raspier than usual. Carl nods and walks slowly to the bank. “Just jump in!”

“I am! I am!” Carl yells nervously, and Negan laughs.

“Get a little running start.”

“Okay.” He steps back a little and starts to run. He feels foolish, but he’s not letting his tendency to overthink ruin this. As he reaches his last stride, he looks at the water and stops with his feet right on the edge.

“Oh come on! You were off to such a good start!” Negan head falls back in laughter, and he looks adorable.

Negan, adorable?

“I can’t!” Carl’s not sure what is stopping him; the water is deep enough to jump in, but not too deep. The water in the spot where Negan is standing goes only to his chest, which means it would reach just under his chin.

“Are you afraid?” His tone is calm but serious.

“No! I don’t know. Sort of,” Carl admits and Negan walks through the water toward him.

“Sit on the edge and I’ll help you in.”

Carl sits down and close his legs tightly so Negan doesn’t see his boxers. Noticing this, Negan grins as he reaches Carl. His hands grip Carl’s thighs and once again he is on fire. Why does his body have to respond to him this way? He’s trying to make them friends, so he needs to ignore the fire. He moves his hands to Carl’s waist and asks, “Ready?”

As soon as Carl nods yes, he is lifting him and pulling him into the water, water that’s warm and feels amazing against his hot skin. Negan lets me go too soon and Carl stands up in the water. They are closer to the bank so it only reaches just below his chest.

“Don’t just stand there,” Negan says mockingly, and Carl ignores him but does walk out a little. The T-shirt bubbles up from the water going under it and Carl yelps and pulls it down. Once it’s positioned, it promises to stay put for the most part.

“You could just take it off,” Negan says with a smirk and Carl splashes at him. “Did you just splash me?” He laughs and Carl nods, splashing at him again. He shakes his wet head and lunges for him under the water. His long arms hook around Carl’s waist and pulls him under. His hand flies up to plug my nose; he hasn't mastered swimming without his nose plugged. When they emerge, Negan is cracking up, and Carl can’t help but laugh with him. He’s actually having fun, real fun, not that average watching-a-good-movie fun.

“I can’t decide which is more fucking amusing: the fact that you are actually having a good time or the fact that you have to plug your nose underwater,” he says through his laughter.

Carl gets a jolt of bravery and moves toward him, ignoring the way the T-shirt floats up again, and he tries to push Negan’s head underwater. Of course, he is too strong for that and doesn’t budge, so Negan only laughs harder, showing all of his beautiful white teeth. Why can’t he be like this all the time?

“I believe you owe me an answer to a question,” Carl reminds him.

Negan looks off toward the bank. “Sure, but only one.”

He’s not sure which one to ask, he has so many. Before hs can decide, though, he hear his voice making the decision for him: “Who do you love the most in the world?”

Why would he ask him that? He wants to know more specific things, like why is he a jerk? Why is he in adopted?

He looks at Carl suspiciously, as if he is confused by his question.

“Myself,” Negan answers, and goes back underwater for a few seconds.

He pops back up and Carl shakes his head. “That can’t be true,” he says in challenge. He knows Negan is arrogant but he has to love someone, anyone? “What about your parents?” Carl asks and immediately regret it.

His face twists and his eyes lose the softness Carl was becoming fond of. “Do not speak of my parents again, got it?” Negan snaps, and Carl wants to smack himself for ruining the good time they were having.

“I’m sorry, I was just curious. You said you would answer a question,” Carl reminds him quietly. Negan’s face softens a little and he steps toward him, the water around them rippling. “I really am sorry, Negan, I won’t mention them again,” he promises. He really doesn't want to fight with him out here; Negan would probably leave him out here alone if Carl upsets him too much.

Negan takes him by surprise when he grabs Carl’s waist and lifts him into the air. Carl kick his legs and flails his arms, screaming at him to put him down, but Negan only obliges him by laughing and tossing him into the water. Carl lands a few feet away and when he comes above water Negan’s eyes are bright with glee.

“You’re going to pay for that!” Carl yells, laughing. Negan fake-yawns in response, so Carl swims at him, and Negan grabs him again—but this time he wrap his thighs around Negan’s waist without really realizing it. A shocked gasp falls from Negan’s lips.

“Sorry,” Carl mutters and unhooks his legs.

But Negan grabs them and folds them back around his waist. That electricity between them can be felt again, this time more intensely than ever before. Why does this always happen with him? Carl shuts his mind off from his thoughts and puts his arms around Negan’s neck to steady himself.

“What are you doing to me, Carl,” he says softly, and rubs his thumb over Carl’s bottom lip.

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully into Negan’s thumb, which still traces over his mouth.

“These lips - fuck - the things you could do with them,” Negan says slowly, seductively. Carl feels that burn deep in his stomach that makes me putty in his arms. “Do you want me to stop?” He looks into Carl’s eyes; Negan’s pupils are so dilated that there is only a slight ring around the now dark hazel of his eyes.

Before Carl’s mind can catch up, Negan shakes his head and press his body against Carl’s under the water.

“We can’t just be friends, you know that, don’t you?” His lips touch Carl’s chin, making him tremble. He continues a line of kisses along Carl’s jawline and Carl nods. He knows he is right. He has no idea what this is that they are, but he knows he will never be able to only be friends with Negan. As his lips touch the spot just below his ear, Carl moans, prompting Negan to do it again, this time sucking the skin.

“Fuck, Negan,” he moans and squeezes Negan with his legs. Carl bring his hands down Negan’s back and graze his fingertips against his skin. He might explode just from him kissing his neck alone.

“I want to make you moan my name, Carl, over and over again. Please fucking let me?” Negan’s voice is full of desperation.

And he knows deep inside there’s no way he can say no.

“Say it, Carl.” He takes my earlobe between his teeth. I nod again, harder. “I need you to say it, baby, so I know you really want me to.” Negan’s hand travels down and under his T-shirt that Carl’s wearing.

“I want to-.” He rushes the words, and Negan smiles against his neck, his mouth continuing its gentle assault. Negan doesn’t say anything and instead grabs Carl’s thighs, lifting Carl higher onto his torso as he begins to walk out of the water. When he reaches the bank, he lets Carl go and climbs out. Carl somewhat wines, certainly inflaming Negan’s ego even more—but right now he doesn't care. All he knows is that he want him, he needs him. Negan reaches out for his hands and pulls Carl up onto the bank with him.

Unsure what to do, Carl just stands on the grass, feeling Negan’s heavy, soaked shirt on his shoulders and thinking he’s too far away.

From where Negan stands, he dips down a little to meet Carl’s eyes. “Do you want it to be here? Or my room?”

Carl shrugs nervously. He doesn't want to go to Negan’s room, because it’s too far—the drive will give him too much time to overthink what he’s about to do.

“Here,” Carl says and looks around. There is no one in sight and he prays that no one will come here.

“Eager?” Negan smiles and Carl tries to roll his eyes, but it probably looks like a desperate flutter. The heat in his body is slowly burning out the longer Negan’s touch is not on him.

“Come here,” Negan says in a low voice and the heat returns.

His feet pad quietly across the soft grass until Carl is only inches from Negan. His hands immediately reach for the hem of the T-shirt and he peels it upward off Carl’s body. The way Negan looks at him alone drives him crazy; his hormones are out of control. His pulse speeds up as Negan looks his body up and down one more time before taking his hand.

He spreads his shirt on the grass like a blanket of sorts. “Lie down,” Negan says, guiding Carl to the ground with him. He lays Carl on the wet fabric and props himself up on his elbow, lying on his side, facing Carl on his back. No one has ever seen Carl this exposed before, and Negan has seen so many people, people much better looking than him. His hands move up to cover his body, but Negan sits up and grabs both of his wrists and pushes them down to his sides.

“Don’t ever cover up, not for me,” Negan says and looks into his eyes.

“It’s just-.” Carl begins to explain, but he cuts him off.

“No, you will not cover up, you have nothing to be ashamed of, Carl.” Does he mean that? “I mean it, look at you,” he continues, seeming to read Carl’s mind.

“You’ve been with so many people,” Carl blurts out, and Negan frowns.

“None like you.” And he knows he could take his answer many different ways, but he chooses to let it go.

“Do you have a condom?” Carl asks him, trying to remember the few things he knows about sex.

“A condom?” Negan chuckles. “I’m not going to have sex with you,” he says and Carl begins to panic. Is this all a game to humiliate him?

“Oh,” is all Carl says and begins to pull himself up. But Negan grabs his shoulders and gently pushes him back down. He’s sure he’s flushed red, and he doesn't want to be exposed to his sarcastic eyes like this.

“Where are you going—” Negan starts, but then realization hits him. “Fucking hell, Carl, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that you have never done anything like at all, so I am not going to have sex with you.” He stares at Carl for a moment. “Today,” he adds, and Carl feels a little bit of the pressure in his chest dissolve.

“There are many other things I want to do to you first.” He climbs on top of Carl, all of his weight supported on his hands. He is in a push-up position. His wet hair drips water droplets onto Carl’s face and he squirms.

“I can’t believe nobody has fucked you before,” he whispers and he shifts his body to lie on his side once again. Negan brings his hand to Carl’s neck and trails it down, touching him only with his fingertips, down his chest, down his stomach until he stops just above Carl’s underwear. They are really doing this. What is he going to do? Anally finger him? Will it hurt? 

A hundred thoughts race through Carl’s mind but disappear as soon as his hand reaches into Carl’s boxers. Carl hears Negan sucks a breath through his teeth and he brings his mouth to Carl's.

His fingers move around Carl’s dick a little, and it shocks Carl.

“Does that feel good?” Negan asks into his mouth.

He’s only rubbing him—how does it feel so good? It's only a handjob. Carl nods and Negan slows his movements down.

“Does it feel better than when you do it?”

Huh?

“Does it?” he asks again.

“Wh-what?” Carl manages, even though he has no control of his body or mind right now.

“When you touch yourself? Does it feel like this?”

Carl’s not sure what to say, and when he just stares at him, something behind Negan’s eyes snaps. He barely jerks off anymore. When he was twelve, sure, but as he got older, porn become boring and he didn't have any privacy in his house. He would rather watch anime and play videogames so masturbating didn't come to mind. Shit, how long has it been since he touched himself?

“Wait, you’ve haven't done that, recently, have you?” Negan’s voice is full of surprise and something else- lust? He goes back to kissing Carl and his fingers wrapped around Carl’s cock, moving up and down. “Shit, you're so hard for me,” he says and Carl moans. Why are these filthy words so hot when Negan says them? He feels a gentle tug and it sends a shock through his whole body.

“Wait, what was that?” Carl half asks, half moans. Negan chuckles and doesn’t answer, but Carl feels him do it again and his back arches off the grass. Negan’s mouth travels down to Carl’s neck, then to his chest. Carl feel a pressure building in my stomach—and it is pure bliss. Shit, he's about to come - so soon?! Carl pinches his eyes closed and bites down on his lip; his back lifts off the grass once again and his legs begin to shake.

“Fucking hell, Carl, come for me,” he says, which makes Carl feel like he’s spiraling out of control. “Look at me, baby,” he purrs.

  
Baby? Oh, yeah, he's done for.

Carl opens his eyes. The sight of Negan’s mouth nipping the skin on his chest sends him over the edge and his vision goes white for a few seconds. He's never come so hard in his life, he's on cloud nine right now. “Negan,” he says, and then repeats, and he can tell by the way Negan’s cheeks flush that he loves it. Slowly, Negan pulls his hand out and rests its on Carl’s stomach as he tries to return his breathing to normal. His body had never felt so energized before, and it’s never felt so relaxed as this now.

“I’ll give you a minute to recover.” Negan laughs to himself and moves away from Carl.

Carl frowns. He wants him to stay close, but he’s also strangely unable to speak. After the best few minutes of his life, he sits up and look toward Negan. He already has his jeans and shoes on.

“We’re leaving already?” The embarrassment is clear in Carl’s voice. He had assumed he would want Carl to touch him, too; even if he doesn't really know what to do, he could explain it to him.

“Yeah, you wanted to stay longer?”

“I just thought, I don’t know. I thought maybe you would want something-.” Carl has no idea how to say this. Luckily for him, Negan catches on.

“Oh, no. I am okay, for now,” he says and gives Carl a small smile. Is he going to go back to being mean again?

Carl hopes not, not after this. He has just shared the most intimate experience he has ever had with him. Carl won’t be able to stand it if he treats Negan terribly again. He did say “for now,” so he wants something later? Carl is already starting to regret this. He puts his clothes on over underwear and tries to ignore the heavy wetness between his thighs. Negan picks up his wet shirt and hands it to him.

He takes in Carl’s confused expression and tells him “to towel off.” His eyes shift to the apex of Carl’s thighs.

Oh. Carl unbuttons his jeans and Negan doesn’t bother to turn around as Carl swipes the shirt across his sensitive skin. Carl doesn't miss the way Negan’s tongue brushes across his bottom lip while he watches him. Then pulls his cell phone from the pocket of his jeans and his thumb slides across the screen repeatedly. Carl finishes doing what Negan recommended and hand him his shirt back. As he step into his shoes, the air around them has changed from passionate to distant, and Carl finds himself wishing to be as far away from him as possible.

Carl waits for him to talk to him as they walk back to the car, but he doesn’t say anything. His mind is already coming up with every possible worst-case scenario for what happens next. Negan opens his door for Carl and he nods to thank him.

“Is something wrong?” Negan asks him while he drives back down the gravel road.

“I don’t know. Why are you being so weird now?” Carl asks him, even though he’s afraid of his answer and can’t look directly at him.

“I’m not, you are.”

“No, you haven’t said a word to me since we-.”

“Since I gave you your first real orgasm?”

Carl mouth drops and his cheeks flush. Why is he still surprised by his dirty mouth?

“Um, yeah. Since that, you haven’t said anything. You just got dressed and we left.” Honesty seems to be the best option right now, so he adds, “It makes me feel like you’re using me or something”

“What? Of course I’m not fucking using you. To use someone I would have to be getting something out of it,” Negan says, so offhandedly that Carl can suddenly feel the angry coming. He does his best to keep his angry back but a tear escapes his eyes, unwanted.

“Are you crying? What did I say?” Negan reaches over and puts his hand on Carl’s thigh. To his surprise it soothes him. “I didn’t mean it like that— fucking hell, I’m sorry. I’m not used to whatever is supposed to happen after messing around with someone, plus I wasn’t going to just drop you off at your room and go our separate ways. I thought maybe we could get some dinner or something? I am sure you’re starving.” Negan squeezes his thigh gently.

Like a date, Carl thinks, but  of course, doesn't say that. He shouldn't even be thinking like that.

Carl smiles back at him, relieved by his words. He wipes away the tear that escaped prematurely and with it goes his worry.

He doesn't know what it is about Negan that makes him so emotional, so angry, in every way possible. The idea of Negan using him makes him more upset than it should. His feelings for Negan are so confusing. He hates him one minute and wants to kiss him the next. He makes Carl feel things he never knew he could, and not just sexually. He makes Carl laugh and cry, yell and scream, but most of all he makes him feel alive.

 

 


	4. FOUR

Negan’s hand is still on Carl’s thigh and Carl hopes he never removes it. He takes a quick opportunity to study some of the tattoos covering his arms. The infinity symbol above his wrist catches his eye again, and he can’t help but wonder if it means something to him. It feels personal, inked there, just above the bare skin on his hand. Carl checks his other wrist for a matching symbol but there isn’t one. The infinity symbol is common enough, mostly among women, but the way the two loops on the ends are hearts makes him even more curious.

“So what type of food do you like?” Negan asks.

What a refreshingly normal question for him to ask Carl. He pulls at his matted, almost dry hair- he wishes he wore his hat- and thinks for a second about what he wants to eat. “Well, I like anything, really, as long as I know what it is—and it doesn’t involve pickles.”

He laughs. “You don’t like pickles? Aren’t all Georgians supposed to be wild for the stuff?” he teases.

“I have no idea, but it’s disgusting.”

They both laugh and he looks over at Negan, who says, “Let’s just stick with a plain diner then?”

Carl nods and Negan reaches to turn the music up but stops and puts his hand back on Carl’s thigh. “So what do you plan on doing after college?” he asks; it’s something he’s already asked me before, in his room.

“I’m going to move to New York immediately, and I hope to work at a video gaming company and be an illustrator. I know it’s silly,” Carl says, suddenly embarrassed by his high ambitions. “But you already asked me that before, remember?”

“No, it’s not. I know someone over at The Governor Video Gaming company, it’s a bit of a drive, but maybe you should apply there for an internship. I could talk to the owner, Philip Blake.”

“What? You would do that for me?” Carl’s voice goes high because he’s pretty surprised; even if Negan has been nice for the last hour, this isn’t quite what Carl expected.

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal.” Negan seems a little embarrassed. Carl’s sure he isn’t used to doing nice things.

“Woah, thank you. Really. I need to get a job or internship soon anyway, and that would literally be a dream come true!” Carl says, his face cracking into a huge grin. He hasn’t been this happy in a while.

Negan chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re welcome.”

They pull into a small parking lot next to an old brick building.

“The food here is amazing,” he says and climbs out of the car. Walking around to the trunk, he opens it and pulls out another plain-white T-shirt. He really must have an endless supply. Carl was enjoying him being shirtless so much that he forgot he would eventually have to put one back on.

When they get inside they seat ourselves in the fairly deserted place. An old woman walks to the table and goes to hand them their menus, but Negan waves them off, ordering a hamburger and fries, gesturing for Carl to do the same. Carl trusts him on this one and orders it—minus pickles, of course.

While they wait, he tells Negan about growing up in Kings County, which, being from South Carolina, Negan’s never heard of the small towns out here. He isn’t missing out on much; the town is small and everyone does the same things and no one ever leaves. Everyone except Carl: he will never move back there.

Negan doesn’t offer him much information about his past, but Carl’s hopeful and patient. Negan seems very curious about Carl’s life as a child and Negan frowns when he tells him about his mother’s cheating and his uncle Shane being obsessive. He had mentioned it to him before, while they were fighting, but this time Carl went into a little more detail.

During a pause in the conversation, the waitress reappears with their food, which looks delicious.

“Good, huh?” Negan asks as Carl takes his first bite. He nods and wipes his mouth off. The food is amazing and they both clear their plates, Carl being more hungry than he’s ever been before.

  
~O~

The drive back to the dorms is relaxed. Negan’s long fingers rub circles on Carl’s leg, and he’s disappointed to see the GSU sign when they finally hit campus and the student parking lot.

“Did you have a nice time?” Carl asks him. He feels so much closer to him now than he did a few hours ago. Negan can be really good when he tries to be.

“Yeah, I did, actually.” Negan seems surprised. “Listen, I would walk you to your room, but I don’t want to play twenty questions with Simon,” He smiles and turns his body sideways to face Carl.

“It’s fine. I’ll just see you tomorrow,” Carl tells him. He’s not sure if he should try to kiss him goodbye or not, so he’s relieved when Negan’s fingers tug on a few loose strands of Carl’s hair and tucks them behind his ear. Carl rests his face in Negan’s palm and Negan leans over and touches his lips to his.

It starts as a simple and gentle kiss, but Carl feels it warm his entire body and he needs more. Negan grabs Carl’s arm and pulls it to gesture for Carl to climb over the middle divider. He quickly obliges and straddles Negan’s lap, his back hitting the steering wheel. He feels the seat recline slightly, giving us more room as he lift his shirt a little to slide Carl’s hands under it. His stomach is hard and his skin is hot. Carl traces his fingers along the ink there.

His tongue massages Carl’s tongue and Negan wraps his arms around Carl tightly. The feeling is almost painful, but it’s a pain he will gladly endure to be this close to him. Negan moans into Carl’s mouth as he put Carl’s hands farther up his shirt. Carl loves that he can make him moan, too, that he have this effect on Negan. He's really about to get lost in the sensation again when they are interrupted by his phone ringing.

“Another alarm?” Negan teases as Carl pulls back and reaches into his bag.

Smiling, he opens his mouth to say something smart back at him, but when he looks at the screen and see it’s Lydia, he stops. Looking at Negan, Carl can tell he’s figured it out. His expression changes, and fearing that Carl’s losing him, this mood, he hits the ignore button and tosses his phone back onto the passenger seat. He’s not thinking about Lydia right now. Carl pushes her to the back corner of his mind and locks that door.

Carl leans back in to continue kissing Negan, but he stops him.

“I think I better go.” His tone is clipped, and sends worry through Carl. When Carl draws back to look at him, Negan’s gaze is distant and ice immediately replaces the fire in his body.

“Negan, I ignored it. I'm going to talk to her about all this. I just don’t know how or when—but it will be soon, though, I promise.”

Carl knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he would have to break up with Lydia the moment he kissed Negan that first time. He can’t date her if he has already betrayed her.

It would always hang over his head like a dark cloud of guilt, and neither of them wants that. The way he feels about Negan is another reason he can’t be with Lydia anymore. He loves Lydia, but if he really loved her the way she deserves to be loved, he wouldn’t be having these feelings for Negan. He doesn't want to hurt Lydia, but there is no turning back now.

“Talk to her about what?” Negan snaps.

“All of this.” Carl waves his hands around chuckling like Negan is being stupid. “Us.”

“Us? You’re not trying to tell me you’re going to break up with her for me, are you?”

Carl’s head starts to spin. He knows he should climb off his lap but he’s frozen.

“You don’t- want me to?” His voice comes out as a whisper.

“No, why would you? I mean, fuck, if you want to dump her, go for it, but don’t do it on my behalf.”

“I just, I thought…” Carl starts to fumble his words. He can't believe this is happening.

“I already told you that I don’t date, Carl,” Negan says, so low.

Carl’s body wants to freeze like a deer in headlights; the only thing that makes it possible for him to climb off Negan is the fact that he refuses to let Nagan see him cry, again.

“Fuck you,” Carl says bitterly and grabs his stuff from the floorboards and his phone from the seat. Negan looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. “Stay away from me from now on—or I swear I will kill!” He shouts, and Negan closes his eyes.

Carl walks as fast as he can to his building, to his room, somehow managing to hold in his tears until he gets inside and shuts the door. He’s so grateful Noah’s gone as he slides down the door and breaks into sobs. How could he be so stupid? He knew how Negan was when he agreed to be alone with him, yet he practically jumped at the opportunity. Just because he was nice to Carl today, he got it into his head that what—that he would be his boyfriend?

Carl laughs through his sobs at how stupid and naïve he is. He really can’t even be angry with Negan. Negan told him he doesn’t date, but today they had such a nice time. He was actually pleasant and playful, and Carl thought they were really building a relationship of some kind.

But it was all an act, just so Negan could get into Carl’s pants. And Carl let him.

~O~

Carl’s tears are dry, and he’s showered and somewhat mentally stable by the time Noah returns from the movies.

“So, how was your hangout with Negan?” He asks and grabs his night clothes out of his dresser.

“It was okay, he was his charming self,” Carl tells him and manages a laugh. He wants to tell him about what they did, but he’s too ashamed. He knows he wouldn’t judge him, and despite wanting to be able to tell someone, he also really don’t want anyone to know.

Noah looks at him with concern evident in his eyes, and Carl has to look away. “Just be careful, okay? You’re too nice for someone like Negan.”

Carl wants to hug him and cry into his shoulder but instead ask, “How was the movie?” to change the subject. He tells him how Beth kept feeding him popcorn and they are getting to know each other a lot better now.

Carl wants to gag, but he knows it’s just jealous because Beth actually likes Noah in a way Negan doesn’t like him. But he reminds himself that he does have someone who loves him and that Carl needs to start treating her better and stay away from Negan—for real this time.

~O~

The next morning, he’s drained. He has no energy and feels like be could cry at any moment. His eyes are red and puffy from crying last night, so he walks over to Noah’s dresser and places eye drops in his eyes, sobering them up. It makes his eyes look much better. He washes his face with a new soap and uses a different face cream. He washes his hair and combs it down, fluffy it out. He looks like a new person. Pleased with the way he looks, hs puts on his jeans and a tank top. And he grabs a cardigan from his closet to complete the look. This is the most effort he’s made in his appearance for a regular school day since picture day for his senior year of high school.

Enid texts him that they’ll have to meet in class, so when he stops by the coffeehouse he grabs her a drink, too. He's still pretty early to class, so he walks slower than usual.

“Hey, Carl, right?” He hear a girl’s voice say. He looks over and see a preppy girl coming his way.

“Yeah, Arat, right?” He asks her, and she nods.

“You coming over again this weekend?” She asks. She must be part of the Negan’s group; of course she is, she's preppy and gorgeous.

“Oh, no, not this weekend.” He laughs and she joins in.

“Bummer, you were fun. Well, if you change your mind, you know where it is. I gotta go, but I’ll see you around.” Giving him a fake little tip of the hat, she walks away.

In class, Enid is already seated and thanks him repeatedly for bringing her coffee. “You look different today,” she says as he sits down.

“Yeah, that's what effort does,” He jokes and she smiles. She doesn’t ask about his night with Negan and he’s grateful. He’s not sure what he would say to her.

Just as the day gets pleasant, and he begins to stop thinking about Negan, it’s time for Media class.

Negan sits in his normal seat in the front. He’s wearing a white T-shirt for once and it’s thin enough that his tattoos are visible underneath it. It amazes Carl how attractive he finds his tattoos when he’s never cared for them before. He looks away quickly, sits down in his usual seat next to him, and pulls out his notes. He’s not giving up his great seat because of one rude boy. Still, he hopes Enid arrives soon so he won't feel so alone with Negan.

“Car?” Negan whispers as the class begins to fill up.

No. Don’t answer him. Ignore him, he repeats to himself.

“Car?” he says again, this time louder.

“Do not speak to me, Negan,” he says through his teeth. He avoids looking at him. He will not fall back into his trap.

“Oh come on,” Negan says, and Carl can tell he thinks this is all funny.

His tone is harsh but he doesn't care: “I mean it, Negan, leave me alone.”

“Fucking fine, have it your way,” he says equally harshly, and Carl sighs.

Enid walks in and he’s so grateful. Seeing the tension between Enid and him, she asks in her kind tone, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Carl lies, and class begins.

  
~O~

Negan and Carl continue ignoring each other all week, and each day that passes without talking to Negan makes it a little easier to not think about him so much. Beth and Noah have been hanging out all week, so he’s had their room mostly to himself, which has been both good and bad. Good because he gets a lot of studying done, but bad because he’s left alone with his thoughts about Negan. All week he’s been taking care of his appearance but dressing the same.

By Friday morning, he feels like he’s really over this whole mess with Negan.

That is, until everyone keeps talking about partying at the frat house.

Seriously, there is a party there every Friday—and usually Saturday, too—so why they feel the need to get excited about it every weekend blows his mind.

After being asked by at least ten people if he will be at the party, he decides to do the only thing that he knows will keep him from going. He calls Lydia.

“Hey, Carl!” She chirps into the phone. It has been a few days since they have actually talked, and he has missed her voice.

“Hey, do you think you could come visit me?” He asks.

“Sure, yeah. Maybe I can come next weekend?”

He groans. “No, I mean like today. Like now, could you leave right now?” He knows she likes to plan things just like he does, but he needs her to come now.

“Carl, I have things to do at school. I’m still at school now, just at about to eat lunch,” she explains.

“Please, Lydia, I really miss you. Can’t you just leave now and come here for the weekend? Please?” He knows he’s begging, but he doesn’t care.

“Um, yeah, sure, Carl. I’ll come now. Is everything okay?”

Happiness floods him—He’s really surprised that squeaky-clean Lydia is agreeing to this, but he’s so glad she is. “Yeah, I just really miss you. I haven’t seen you in almost two weeks,” Carl reminds her.

She laughs. “I miss you, too. I'm going to get a slip and leave in a few minutes, so I'll see you in about three hours. I love you, Carl.”

“I love you, too,” he says and hang up. Well, that settles that. Any chance that he might have ended up at that party is now gone.

~O~

A newfound sense of relief fills Carl as he walks to Media, and into the gorgeous old brick building the class is in. That sense of relief vanishes when he walks into the classroom and see Negan hovering over Enid's desk.

What the hell?

Carl rushes over just as Negan slams his hand on the desk and growls, “Don’t ever say some shit like that again.”

Enid moves to stand up, but she would be insane to try to fight Negan. Carl can’t imagine her hitting anyone.

Carl grabs hold of Negan’s arm and pulls him back away from Enid. His other hand rises into the air and Carl flinches, but once he realizes it’s Carl, Negan drops his hand and curses under his breath.

“Leave her alone, Negan!” He yells and turns to Enid. She looks just as mad as Negan does but she sits down.

Negan seriously wasn't going to hit her? Was he?

“You need to mind your own business, Carlton,” Negan snidely says and moves to his seat. He really should sit in the back somewhere.

Sitting between them, Carl leans over and whispers to Enid, “Are you okay? What was that about?”

She looks toward Negan and sighs. “He is just an asshole. That pretty much sums it up,” she says loudly and puts on a chipper grin.

Carl laughs a little and straightens up. He can hear Negan’s ragged breathing next to him and Carl gets an idea. A childish idea, but he will do it anyway.

“I have some good news!” Carl tells Enid in his best mock-cheery voice.

“Really? What’s that?”

“Lydia’s coming to visit today, and she’ll be here all weekend!” Carl says and smiles while he basically jumps in his seat. He knows he’s overdoing it, but he feel Negan’s eyes on him and Carl knows he heard him.

“Really? That is great news!” Enid says earnestly.

Class begins and ends without Negan saying a word to him. This is how it will be from now on and it’s fine with him. He wishes Enid a nice weekend and walks back to his room to touch up and grab something to eat before Lydia gets here. He laughs at himself a little while fixing his hair. Since when he the type of guy who has to “touch up his hair” before his girlfriend comes? He sense that it’s since that day at the stream with Negan, an experience that changed him, though the way Negan hurt him after changed him even more. The hair is only a slight change, but he knows it is there.

He eats and straightens his room up a little, folding Noah’s clothes and putting them away; he hope Noah won’t mind. Lydia finally texts that she’s here, and he jumps off the bed where he was resting and rushes outside to greet her. She looks better than ever in navy blue pants, a cream cardigan, and a white shirt underneath. She really does wear a lot of cardigans, but he loves them.

Her welcoming smile warms his heart and he wraps his arms around her and she tells him how nice it is to see him.

As they walk back to his room, she looks at at for a moment and asks, “Did you change your hair?”

“Yeah, a little. It’s just something I have been experimenting with,” Carl explains.

She smiles. “It looks nice,” she says, and kisses his cheek.

In his room, they end up browsing through the romantic comedies section on Netflix to pick a movie. Noah texts him and says he is with Beth and won’t be back tonight, so he turns the lights off and they sit back against his headboard, Carl’s arm around her shoulder and her head on his chest.

This is him, he thinks, not some wild guy swimming in a boy’s T-shirt.

They start up a movie that he’s never heard of before, and not five minutes into it the door bursts opens. He immediately figured that maybe Noah has forgotten something he needs.

But of course it’s Negan. His eyes go straight to where Lydia and him are cuddled on the bed, illuminated by the TV light. Carl flushes; he has come here to tell Lydia, he knows it. Panic takes over his body, and he scoots away from his girlfriend, making it seem like he just made a surprised little jump.

“What are you doing here?” Carl snaps. “You can’t just barge in here!”

Negan smiles. “I’m meeting Simon here,” he answers and sits down. “Hey, Lydia, nice to see you again.” He smirks and Lydia looks uncomfortable. She's probably wondering why Negan didn't bother to knock.

“He’s somewhere else, probably already at your house,” Carl tells him slowly, silently pleading for him to leave. If he tells Lydia now, he has no idea how he could recover.

“Oh?” Negan says. Carl can tell by his smirk that he came here just to torment him. He will probably stay until he comes clean to Lydia himself. “Are you two coming to the party?”

“No, we aren’t. We’re trying to watch a movie,” Carl tells him, and Lydia reaches over and takes his hand. Even in the dark, Carl can see Negan’s eyes focus on where Lydia’s hand touches his.

“That’s too bad. I better go,” Negan turns toward the door, and Carl feels some relief. But then he twists back. “Oh, and, Lydia,” he begins, making Carl’s heart drop. “I really like your hair.”

Carl lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Thanks. I got it done yesterday,” Lydia says. She is clueless and unaware that Negan is making fun of her.

“I can see that. You two have fun,” Negan says and leaves the room.

  
“He’s not so bad, I guess,” Lydia says when the door closes.

Carl laughs nervously. “What?” And when she raises his eyebrow at him, he continues: “Nothing, I'm just surprised to hear you say that.” She lies back onto his chest. The electricity that filled the room moments ago has dissolved.

“I’m not saying I would want to hang out with the guy, but he was friendly enough.”

“Negan is nothing even close to friendly,” Carl says, and Lydia chuckles and wraps her arm around him. If she only knew the things that happened between Negan and him, the way they kissed, the way he moaned Negan’s name while he—God, Carl, just stop. He leans his head down and kisses Lydia’s jaw, making her smile.

He wants Lydia to make him feel the way Negan does. He sits up and turns to face he. He take her face between his hands and presses his lips against hers. Her mouth opens and she kisses him back. Her lips are soft -just like Negan’s kiss. It’s not enough. He needs the fire, he needs the passion. He wraps his hands around her waist and pulls her onto his lap.

“Whoa, Carl, what are you doing?” She asks and tries to push herself off gently.

“What? Nothing, I just I want to make out, I guess,” He says and looks down. He’s usually not embarrassed in front of Lydia, but this isn’t something they usually talk about.

“Okay?” She says, and he kisses her again. He feels warmth from her, but not the fire. He starts to rock his hips, hoping to light it somehow. Her hands go down to his waist but she pushes them against him, stopping his movements. He knows they agreed to wait until marriage, but they're just kissing here. He grabs her hands and pull them away and continues to rock against her. No matter how many times he tries to kiss her harder, her mouth stays soft and timid. He can tell she’s getting turned on, but she won’t act on it.

He knows that he’s doing this for all the wrong reasons, but he doesn't care at the moment—he just needs to know that Lydia can do to him what Negan does. It isn’t actually Negan that he wants, it’s the feeling, isn’t it?

He stops kissing Lydia and she slides off his lap.

“That was nice, Carl.” She smiles and Carl gives her one back. It was “nice.” She is so careful, too careful, but he loves her. He presses play on the movie and within minutes he can himself drifting off.

“I should go,” Negan says. His hazel eyes looking down at him. “Go where?” Carl doesn’t want him to go. “I'm going to stay at a hotel close by; I’ll come back in the morning,” she says, and after Carl stares at him a moment, his face fades into Lydia’s.

He jolts up and wipe his eyes. Lydia, it is Lydia. It was never Negan.

“You’re obviously really sleepy, and I can’t stay the night here,” Lydia says gently and brushes his cheek.

Carl wants her to stay, but now he’s afraid of what he will see or say in his sleepy state. Lydia clearly doesn’t think it’s decent for her to stay in his room anyway. Negan and Lydia are polar opposites. In every way.

“Okay, thank you again for coming,” he mumbles and she kisses him lightly on the cheek before sliding out from under him.

“I love you,” she says. He nods, bury his head back into his pillow, and descend into dreams he doesn't remember.

  
~O~

The next morning, he wakes up to Lydia calling on the phone. She tells him she is on his way, so he rolls out of bed and rushes to the showers, wondering what Lydia and him should do today. There isn’t much to do around here unless they go into town; maybe he should text Enid and ask what there is to do around here besides party at a frat house. She seems to be his only friend who would know.

Having decided to wear his gray jeans and a plain blue shirt, he ignores Negan’s voice in the back of his head telling him that it’s ugly.

Lydia is in the hall waiting by his door as he returns with the towel still in his hair. “You look lovely,” she says with a smile, and he puts his arm over her shoulder as he opens the door.

  
Lydia sits patiently on his bed as he dries and combs his hair.

“College really suits you, Carl. You have never looked better,” Lydia says. “I don’t know, maybe we can go to a park or something, then dinner?”

He looks at the clock. How is it already 1 p.m.? He texts Noah and tell hers ge will be out most of the day and he responds saying she will be gone until tomorrow. He basically lives at Beth’s dorm on the weekends.

Carl opens the passenger door of her Toyota. Her parents made sure he had the safest car, the newest model. The interior is spotless, no stacks of books, no dirty clothing. They drive around to find a park, which only takes a little bit. It’s a small, quiet space with half-green, half-yellowing grass and a few trees.

As they pull into a spot, Lydia asks, “Hey, when are you going to start looking for a car?”

“I think this week, actually. I'm going to apply for jobs this week, too.” Carl doesn't mention the internship at The Governor Company that Negan dangled in front of him. He doesn’t know if he can still get it, or how he’ll tell Lydia if he did.

“That is great news. Let me know if you need any help with either of those,” she says.

They walk around the park once and then sit at a picnic table. Lydia talks most of the time and he nods along. He finds himself zoning in and out of the conversation but she doesn’t seem to notice. They end up walking a little more and come to a small stream. He snorts at the irony and Lydia looks at him quizzically.

“Do you want to swim?” Carl asks, not quite sure why he push this moment further.

“In there? No way,” she says, laughing, and as he deflates a little, he mentally smacks himself. He needs to stop comparing Lydia to Negan.

“I was just joking,” he lies, and drags her along down the trail.

~O~

It’s seven before they leave the park, so they decide to order pizza when we get back to his room and watch a classic: Meg Ryan falling in love with Tom Hanks through a radio show. He’s starving by the time the pizza comes so he eats almost half of it himself. In his defense, he hasn't eaten all day.

Halfway through the movie his phone rings and Lydia reaches over to grab it for him. “Who’s Enid?” he asks. There is no suspicion in her voice, only curiosity. She has never been the jealous type; she never needed to be.

Until now, his subconscious reminds him.

“She’s a friend from school,” he says and answers. Why would Enid be calling him so late? She’s never called him for anything other than to compare notes.

“Carl?” Enid says loudly.

“Yeah, is everything okay?”

“Um, well, no, actually. I know Lydia is there but-.” She hesitates.

“What’s wrong, Enid?” His heart starts to race. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s not me. It’s Negan.”

Panic overtakes him. “N-Negan?” He stutters.

“Yeah, if I give you an address can you come here, please?” He can hear something crash in the background. He jumps off his bed and he has his shoes on before his mind catches up. Lydia stands up, too, almost as if in sympathy.

“Enid, is Negan trying to hurt you?” His mind can’t make sense of what else could be going on.

“No, no,” she says, almost horrified by that conclusion. He feels a weight lift off his shoulders a little.

“Text me the address,” he tells her and then hears another crash.

He turns to Lydia. “Lydia, I need your car.”

Her head turns sideways. “What is going on?”

“I don’t know, it’s Negan. Give me your keys,” he demands.

She reaches into her pocket and pulls them out, but says insistently, “I’m coming with you.”

But he snatches the keys from her hands and shakes his head. “No, you- I need to go alone.”

His words hurt her. She looks hurt. And he knows it’s wrong to leave her here, but right now the only thing ge can think about is getting to Negan.

 

~O~

Enid text reads 28 Walker Rd, which he copies and pastes into his maps program, which says the drive is fifteen minutes. What could be going on there that Enid could possibly need him?

He’s just as confused when he arrives at the address as he was when he left his room. Lydia has called twice, both of which he has ignored; he needs the navigation to stay on the screen and, honestly, the confused look on her face when he left her there is haunting him.

The houses on the street are all large and look like mansions. This house in particular is at least three times larger than his father’s. It’s an old-fashioned brick house with a sloped yard that makes it appear to be sitting on a hill. Even under the streetlights, it’s beautiful. He’s guessing this must be their adoptive parent’s house, since this doesn’t belong to a college kid and it’s the only reason why Enid would be here as well. He takes a deep breath, gets out, and walks up the steps from the sidewalk. He knocks hard on the dark mahogany door, and it opens within seconds.

“Carl, thank you for coming. I’m sorry, I know you have company. Is Lydia with you?” Enid asks and looks out to the car while gesturing him inside.

“No, she’s back at the dorms. What’s going on? Where’s Negan?”

“The backyard. He is out of control.” She sighs.

“And I'm here because?” He asks as nicely as he can. What does Negan being out of control have to do with him?

“I don’t know, I know you hate him, but you do talk to him. He’s really drunk, completely belligerent. He showed up here and opened a bottle of our father’s scotch. He drank over half the bottle! And then he started breaking things: all our mother’s dishes, a glass cabinet, basically everything he could get his hands on.”

“What? Why?” Negan told him he doesn’t drink that often—was that a lie, too?

“Our parents just told him that they are getting married.”

“Okay?” He’s still confused. “So Negan doesn’t want them to get married?” He asks as Enid leads him through the large kitchen, where he gasps as he takes in the huge mess Negan has made. Broken dishes are scattered across the floor, and a large wooden cabinet has been knocked over, its glass panels shattered.

“No, but it’s a long story. Right after our dad called and told him, they left town for the weekend to celebrate. I think that’s why Negan came here, to confront them. He never comes here,” she explains and opens the back door.

Carl sees a shadow sitting at a small table on the patio. Negan.

“I don’t know what you think I can do, but I’ll try.”

Enid nods. She leans down and puts her hand on his shoulder. “He was calling out for you,” she tells him quietly, and his heart stops.

He walks toward Negan and he looks up at him. His eyes are bloodshot, and his hair is hidden under a gray beanie. His eyes go wide, then darken, and Carl wants to step back. He looks almost scary under the dim patio light.

“How did you get here—” Negan says loudly and stands up.

“Enid, she-” he answers, then wishes that he hadn’t.

“You fucking called him?” he yells towards Enid, who for her part walks back inside.

“You leave her alone, Negan—she is worried about you,” he scolds.

He sits back down, gesturing for Carl to take a seat, too. He sits across from him and watches as he grabs the mostly empty bottle of dark liquor and puts it to his mouth. Carl watches his Adam’s apple move as he gulps it down. When Negan’s finished, he slams the bottle down onto the glass of the patio table and it makes Carl jump, thinking either the bottle or the table or both might break.

“Aww, aren’t you two fucking something. You both are so predictable. Poor Negan is upset, so you gang up on me and try to make me feel bad for breaking some shitty china,” Negan drawls with a sick smirk.

“I thought you didn't drink often?” Carl asks him and crosses his arms.

“I don’t much. Until now, I guess. Don’t try to patronize me; you’re no better than me.” He points a finger at Carl, then grabs the bottle for another swig.

And it’s scary, but he can’t deny that being near him, even in his drunken state, breathes life into him. He’s missed the feeling Negan gives him.

“I never said I was better than you. I just want to know what made you drink now?”

“What does it matter to you? Where’s your girlfriend?” His eyes blaze into his and the emotion behind them is so strong that Carl is forced to look away. If only he knew what that emotion was; hatred, he supposes.

“She’s back in my room. I just want to help you, Negan.” He leans a little over the table to reach for his hand, but Negan recoils from his touch.

“Help me?” he cackles. Carl wants to ask him why he was calling out for him if he is going to continue to be hateful, but he doesn't want to throw Enid under the bus again. “If you want to help me, then leave.”

“Why won’t you just tell me what’s going on?” Carl looks down at my hands and picks at his jeans.

Negan sighs and pulls his beanie off and runs his hand through his hair before pulling it back on. “My adoptive parents has just decided to get married —and the wedding’s next month. They should have told me long ago, and not over the phone. I’m sure perfect little Enid’s known for a while.”

Oh. Carl hadn’t actually expected Negan to tell him, so he’s not sure what to say. “I'm sure they had their reasons not to tell you.”

“You don’t know them; they don't give a shit about me. You know how many times I have talked to them in the last year? Maybe ten! All they care about is this big house, their soon to be perfect marriage, and their new, perfect daughter, Enid.” Negan slurs and takes another drink. Carl stays quiet while he continues. “You should see the dump that they left back in South Carolina. They say it’s better for me here but they don’t know shit. I had to leave my real family back in my real home! My biological mother practically forced me to come here for university, to be closer to them—and we see how that worked out!”

With this little bit of information Negan has given him, he feels like he can understand him so much better. Negan’s hurt; that’s why he is the way he is.

“How old were you when you had to leave your mom?” Carl asks him.

He eyes Carl warily but answers. “Ten. She was a drunk. But even before I was adopted, my foster parents were never there. They only cared about their image and their perfect Enid and Beth. Now they think they're the fucking Rogers family and all this shit,” Negan says and waves his hands toward the house.

Beth?

Negan’s mom couldn't take care of him so she put him foster care. His dad seems to be out of the picture just like Carl’s mom. They have more in common than he thought. This wounded and drunk Negan seems so much younger, so much more fragile than the powerful person he’s known so far.

“I’m sorry that your mother couldn't take care of you, but—”

“No, I don’t need your pity,” Negan interrupts.

“It’s not pity. I’m just trying to—”

“Trying to what?”

“Help you. Be here for you,” Carl says softly.

And Negan smiles. It’s a beautifully haunting smile, and makes Carl hopeful that he can help him through this, but he knows what is really about to happen.

“You're so pathetic. Don’t you see that I don’t want you here? I don’t want you to be here for me. Just because I messed around with you doesn’t mean I want anything to do with you. Yet here you are, leaving your nice girlfriend—who can actually stand to be around you—to come here and try to ‘help’ me. That, Carlton, is the definition of pathetic,” he says, punctuating it with air quotes.

His voice is full of venom, just like Carl knew it would be, but he ignores the pain in his chest and look at him. “You don’t mean that.” He thinks back to a week ago when Negan was laughing and tossing him into the water. He can’t decide if he is a great actor, or a great liar.

“I do, though; go home,” Negan tells him and raises the bottle to take another drink. Reaching across the table, Carl snatches it from him and toss it into the yard.

“What the fuck?” he yells, but Carl ignores him and walks toward the back door.

Carl hears Negan scramble and then he steps in front of him. “Where are you going?” His face is inches from his.

  
What?!

  
“I’m going to help Enid clean up the mess you made and then I’m going home.” His voice comes out much calmer than he feels.

“Why would you help her?” The disgust in his voice is clear.

“Because she, unlike you, deserves for someone to help her,” Carl says and Negan’s face falls. He should be saying much more to Negan. He should scream at him for the hurtful things he just said to him, but he knows that is what Negan wants. This is what he does: he hurts everyone near him and he gets a kick out of the chaos that comes out of that.

Negan quietly steps out of his way.

When Carl goes inside, he finds Enid crouched over, pulling the cabinet upright.

“Where’s the broom?” He asks when she’s done. Enid looks at him with a thankful smile.

“Right over there,” she says, motioning to the broom. “Thank you for everything.”

He nods and begins sweeping up the smashed dishes. There are just so many. He feels terrible that when Enid’s family comes back they’ll find all of their dishes gone. He hopes they didn’t have any sentimental value to them.

“Shit!” He gasps when a small piece of glass digs into his finger. Droplets of blood fall onto the wooden floor, and he jumps up to reach the sink.

“Are you okay?” Enid asks, worried.

“Yeah, it’s just a little piece, I don’t know why there is so much blood.” It really doesn’t hurt that bad. He close his eyes as the cold water runs over his finger, and after a couple of minutes he hears the back door open. He snaps his eyes open and turns to see Negan standing in the doorway.

“Carl, can I talk to you, please?” he asks.

He knows that he should say no, but something about the redness around his eyes makes Carl nod. His eyes look to his hand and then the blood on the floor.

He walks over to Carl quickly. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“It’s nothing, just a little glass,” he tells him.

Negan reaches for his hand and pulls it out from under the water. And when he touches Carl’s arm, he feels the electricity. Looking at his finger, Negan frowns, then lets it go, walking over to Enid. He was just calling Carl pathetic, now he is acting all concerned about his health? He is going to make Carl crazy, literally crazy, as in locked in a padded room.

“Where are the Band-Aids?” he practically demands of Enid, and Enid tells him they’re in the bathroom. Within a minute Negan is back and he grabs Carl’s hand again. First he squeezes some antibacterial gel onto his cut, then he wraps a Band-Aid around his finger gently. Carl stays quiet, as confused by Negan’s actions as Enid looks.

“Can I talk to you, please?” he asks again, and Carl knows he shouldn’t, since when does he do what he should when Negan is involved?

Carl nods, and Negan wraps his fingers around his wrist and leads him outside.

  
Back at the patio table, Negan lets go of Carl’s wrist and pulls out the chair for him. Feeling like his skin is literally burning from his touch, Carl rubs his fingers over it as Negan grabs the other chair and drags it across the concrete to sit directly in front of him. When he sits, he’s so close that his knees are almost touching Carl’s.

“What could you possibly want to talk about, Negan?” Carl asks him in the harshest tone he can muster.

Negan takes a deep breath and pulls his beanie off again and places it on the table. Carl watches as his long fingers run through his thick hair and he looks into Carl’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says with an intensity that makes Carl look away and focus on the large tree in the backyard. He leans in close. “Did you hear me?” he asks.

“Yeah, I heard you,” Carl says and stares back at him. He is crazier than Carl thought if he thinks he can just say sorry and Carl will forget the horrible things he continues to do to him on an almost daily basis.

“Fucking hell, you’re difficult,” he says and sits back on his chair. The bottle Carl tossed into the yard is now in his hand, and he takes another drink from it. How is he not passed out yet?

“I’m difficult? You have to be kidding me! What do you expect me to do, Negan? You are cruel to me—so fucking cruel,” Carl says and pull his bottom lip between his teeth. Lydia has never made him cry; they have been in a few fights over the years, but he has never been upset enough to cry.

Negan’s voice is low and almost feels like it’s part of the night air:“I don’t mean to be.”

“Yes, you do, and you know it. You do it purposefully. I have never been treated this poorly by anyone in my entire life.” Carl bites his lip harder. He can feel the knot in his throat. If he cries, Negan wins. That’s what Negan wants.

“Then why do you keep coming around? Why not just give up?”

“I don’t know. But I can assure you that after tonight I’m not going to. I’m going to drop Media and just take it next semester.” Carl hadn’t planned on doing that until now, but it is exactly what he should do.

“Fucking hell, don't, please don’t do that.”

“Why would you care? You don’t want to be forced to be around someone as pathetic as me, right?” Carl’s blood is boiling. If he knew what to say to hurt Negan as bad as he always hurts him, he would.

“I didn’t mean that. I’m the pathetic one.”

Carl looks straight at him. “Well, I won’t argue with that.”

He takes another drink, and when Carl reaches for the bottle, he pulls it away.

“So you’re the only one who can get drunk?” He asks, and a wry smile appears on Negan’s face.

“I thought you were going to toss it again.”

Carl should, but instead he puts the bottle to his lips. The liquor is warm and tastes like burnt licorice dipped in rubbing alcohol. He gags and Negan chuckles.

“How often do you drink? You implied before it wasn't that often,” Carl says. He needs to get back to being angry with him after Negan answers.

“Before tonight it has been about six weeks.” His eyes fall to the floor like he is ashamed.

“Well, you shouldn’t drink at all. It makes you an even worse person than usual.”

Still staring at the ground, Negan’s face is serious. “You think I am a bad person?”

What, is he that drunk that he would ever consider himself good?

“Yes.”

“I’m not. Well, maybe I am. I want you to-.” he starts, but then stops, straightens up, and leans back on the chair.

“You want me to what?” Carl has to know what he was going to say. He hands Negan back the bottle, but he sets it on the table. He doesn't want to drink; the one was bad enough, given the terrible judgment he has around Negan as it is.

“Nothing,” he says, lying.

Why is he here? Lydia is back in his room waiting for him, and here he is wasting even more time on Negan. “I should go.” He stands up and heads for the back door.

“Don’t go,” Negan’s voice says softly. And Carl’s feet stop in their tracks at the pleading tone. He turns around to find Negan less than a foot from him.

“Why not? Do you have more insults to throw in my face?” Carl shouts and turns away. Negan’s hand wraps around his arm and jerks him back.

“Don’t turn your back on me!” Negan shouts even louder than he did.

“I should have turned my back on you a long time ago!” He screams and pushes against his chest. “I don’t know why I’m even here! I came all the way here the second Enid called me! I left my girlfriend —who, like you said, is the only one who can stand to be around me—to come here for you! You know what? You’re right, Negan, I'm pathetic. I'm pathetic for coming here, I'm pathetic for even trying—”

But Carl is cut off by his lips against his. He pushes at his chest to stop him, but he doesn’t budge. Every part of him wants to kiss Negan back, but he stops himself. He feels his tongue trying to pry its way in between Carl’s lips and his strong arms wrap around Carl, pulling him closer to him despite Carl’s attempts to push away. It’s no use; he is stronger than him.

“Kiss me, Carl,” he says against Carl’s lips.

He shakes his head and Negan grunts in frustration. “Please, just kiss me. I need you...”

His words unravel Carl. This indecent, drunken, terrible man just said he needs him, and somehow it sounds like poetry to his ears. Negan is like a drug; each time Carl takes the tiniest bit of him, he craves more and more. He consumes his thoughts and invades his dreams.

The second Carl’s lips part, his mouth is on his again, but this time he doesn't resist. He can’t. He knows this isn’t the answer to his problems and that he’s just digging himself deeper, but that doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is his words, and how he said them: I need you.

Could Negan possibly need him the way Carl desperately needs him? He doubts it, but for right now he wants to pretend that he does. He brings one of his hands to cup Carl’s cheek and he runs his tongue along his bottom lip.

Carl shudders and Negan smiles, his growing mustache tickling the corner of Carl’s mouth. He hears a rustling noise and pulls away. He lets Carl stop the kiss, but he keeps his arms wrapped tightly around him, his body pressed against his.

He looks toward the back door and prays that Enid didn’t witness his terrible lapse of judgment. He doesn't see her, thank God.

“Negan, I really have to go. We can’t keep doing this; it’s not good for either of us,” he tells him and look down.

“Yes, we can,” he says and lifts Carl’s chin up, forcing him to look into his hazel eyes.

“No, we can’t. You hate me, and I don’t want to be your punching bag anymore. You confuse me. One minute you’re telling me how much you can’t stand me or humiliating me after my most intimate experience.” Negan opens his mouth to interrupt him and Carl puts his finger against his pink lips and continues. “Then the next minute you’re kissing me and telling me you need me. I don’t like who I am when I’m with you, and I hate the way I feel after you say terrible things to me.”

“Who are you when you are with me?” His hazel eyes study his face, waiting for his reply.

“Someone I don’t want to be, someone who cheats on their girlfriend and gets angry constantly,” he explains.

“You know who I think you are when you’re with me?” Negan runs his thumb along Carl’s jawline, and he tries to stay focused.

“Who?”

“Yourself. I think this is the real you and that you’re just too busy caring what everyone else thinks about you to realize it.”

He doesn't know what he think about this, but Negan sounds so honest, so sure of his answer that Carl takes a second to really think about his words.

“And I know what I did to you after I gave you a handjob.” He notices Carl’s scowl and continues. “Sorry- after our experience, I know it was wrong. I felt terrible after you got out of my car.”

“I doubt that,” Carl mumbles, remembering how much he cried that night.

“It’s true, I swear it. I know you think I’m a bad person, but you make me—” He draws up short. “Never mind.”

Why does he always stop?

“Finish that sentence, Negan, or I’m leaving right now,” Carl demands. And means it.

The way his eyes seem to burn when he looks at Carl, the way his lips part slowly, as if every word will hold something, a lie or a truth, it makes Carl wait for his response. “Fucking hell, you make me want to be good, for you. I want to be good for you, Carl.”

  
Carl tries to take a step back from him, but his grip is too strong. He must have heard him wrong. His emotions are getting the best of him, so he turns and looks out into the darkness of the backyard, trying to make sense of the meaning behind his words. Negan wants to be better for him?

In what way? He couldn’t mean it- Could he?

He looks back at Negan, his eyes hazy. “What?”

He looks unaffected, truthful? Hopeful? What? “You heard me.”

“No. I’m sure I misunderstood.”

“No, you didn’t. You make me feel something unfamiliar. I don’t know how to handle these types of feelings, Carl, so I do the only thing I know how to do.” Negan pauses and blows out a small breath. “Which is be an asshole.”

Once again Carl finds himself in a trance.

“This could never work, Negan, we're so different. First off, you don’t date, remember?”

“We aren’t that different—we like the same things; we both love graphic novels for example,” he says, traces of liquor in his breath.

Even standing here, Carl can’t wrap his mind around the idea of Negan trying to convince him that they could be good together. “You don’t date,” he reminds him again.

“I know, but we could be friends?”

There it is. They are back to square one. “I thought you said we couldn’t be friends? And I won’t be friends with you—I know what you mean by that. You want all the benefits of having a boyfriend without actually having to commit.”

Negan’s body sways and he leans on the table and loosens his grip on Carl. “Why is that so bad? Why do you need the label?”

Carl is thankful for the space between them and the fresh, scotch-free air.

“Because, Negan, even though I’ve not really had a lot of restraint lately, I do have self-respect. I will not be your plaything, especially when it involves being treated like dirt.” He raises his hands into the air. “And besides, I’m already taken.”

Negan’s evil dimples come out with his smirk. “And yet, look where you are right now.”

Reflexively, Carl blurts out, “I love her and she loves me,” and then watches Negan’s expression change. He lets go of him and stumbles over the chair.

“Fucking hell, don't say that shit to me.” He slurs his words, which are coming out faster than before. Carl almost forgot how drunk he was.

“You’re only saying this because you’re drunk; tomorrow you will go back to hating me.”

“I don’t hate you.” Negan goes into the lawn a bit.

Carl wishes he didn’t have this effect on him. He wishes he could just walk away. But instead he sticks around and hears him say, “If you can look me in the eyes and tell me that you want me to leave you alone and never speak to you again, I'll listen. I swear, from this point on I will never come near you again. Just say the words.”

He opens his mouth to tell him just that. To tell him to stay far away from him, to tell him he never wants to lay eyes on him again.

Negan turns and comes closer. “Tell me, Carl, tell me that you never want to see me again.” Then he’s touching him. Negan runs his hands along Carl’s arms and goose bumps immediately raise on his skin.

“Tell me you never want to feel my touch again,” he whispers, bringing his hand to Carl’s neck. His index finger traces along his collarbone and back up and down his neck. Carl can hear his breathing quicken as Negan brings his lips less than an inch from his. “That you never want me to kiss you again,” he says, and Carl can smell the scotch and feel the heat off his breath.

“Tell me, Carlton,” he coos and Carl whimpers.

“Negan,” he whispers.

“You can’t resist me, Carl, just as I can’t resist you.” His lips are close to his; they are almost touching.

“Stay with me tonight?” he asks, and that makes Carl want to do whatever he says.

A movement by the door catches Carl’s eye and he jerks away from Negan. Looking up, he can see Enid’s face twisted with confusion before she turns away and disappears from the doorway.

He snapped back into reality.

“I have to go,” he says and Negan curses under his breath.

“Fuck, please stay. Just stay with me tonight, and if you decide in the morning to tell me you don’t want to see me anymore then… fucking hell, just please stay. I’m begging you and I don’t beg ever, Carl.”

Carl finds himself nodding before he can stop himself. “And what will I tell Lydia? She is waiting for me and I have her car.” He can’t believe he is actually considering doing this.

“Just tell her that you have to stay because - fucking hell, I don’t know. Don’t tell her anything. What’s the worst thing she can do?”

Carl shudders. She will tell his father. Without a doubt. Irritation towards Lydia fills him; he should not have to worry about his girlfriend telling his father on him, even if he does something wrong.

“She is probably asleep anyway,” Negan says.

“No, she has no way to get back to her hotel.”

“Hotel? Wait—she doesn’t stay with you?”

“No, she has a hotel room close by.”

“And you stay there with her?”

“No, she stays there,” Carl says sheepishly, “and I stay in my room.”

“Is she straight?” Negan asks, his bloodshot eyes dancing in amusement.

Carl’s eyes go wide. He's bisexual but Lydia never seemed to care. “Of course she is!”

“Sorry, but something is not right there. If you were mine, I wouldn’t be able to stay away from you. I would fuck you every chance I had.”

Carl’s mouth falls open. Negan’s dirty words have the strangest effect on him. He flushes and looks away.

“Let’s go inside,” Negan says. “The trees are swaying back and forth. I think that is my cue I’ve had way too much to drink.”

“You’re staying here?” Carl had assumed he would go back to his frat house.

“Yeah, and so are you. Let’s go.” He grabs Carl’s hand and they walk toward the back door.

He will have to find Enid and try to explain what she saw through the door. He doesn't know what’s happening himself, so he’s not sure how he will explain it, but he will have to make her understand somehow. As they walk through the kitchen, he notices the mess is almost completely cleaned up.

“You need to clean the rest of this tomorrow,” Carl tells him and Negan nods.

“I will,” Negan promises. Yet another promise Carl hopes he keeps.

Carl’s hand in his, he leads him up the grand staircase. He prays that they don’t run into Enid in the hallway and he’s relieved when they don’t.

Negan opens the door to a pitch-black room and gently pulls Carl inside.

 

 


	5. FIVE

Carl’s eyes adjust to the darkness, but the only light is a small streak of moonlight coming through the bay window. “Negan?” he whispers.

He hears Negan’s curse as he trips over something and Carl’s tries not to laugh.

“I’m right here,” Negan says and clicks on a desk lamp. Carl looks around the large room, which reminds him of a hotel. A four-poster bed with dark linens is centered against the far wall and looks like a king-size with at least twenty pillows on top. The desk is oversize and made of cherrywood, and the computer sitting on it has a bigger monitor than the television in my dorm room. The bay window has a built-in bench while the other windows are masked with thick navy curtains that don’t allow the moon to shine through.

“This is my room,” he says and rubs the back of his neck with his hand. He looks almost embarrassed.

“You have a room here?” Carl asks, but of course he does. It is his parent’s house and Enid obviously lives here. Enid has mentioned that Negan never comes here, so maybe that is why it looks so museum-like, untouched and impersonal.

“Yeah, I haven’t ever actually slept in it until tonight.” He sits on the chest placed at the foot of the bed and unties his boots. He pulls his socks off and tucks them into the shoes. Carl’s heart swells at the idea that he’s part of a first for Negan. It’s silly.

“Oh. Why is that?” Carl is taking advantage of his drunken honesty.

“Because I don’t want to. I hate it here,” Negan answers quietly and unbuttons his black pants and pulls them down his legs.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting undressed?” he says, stating the obvious.

“I mean, why?” Even though part of Carl is dying to feel Negan’s hands on him again, he hopes Negan doesn’t think he’s going to have sex with him.

“Well, I’m not sleeping in skinny jeans and boots,” Negan half laughs. His hand sweeps the hair off his forehead, making it stand straight up. Everything he does sends that wild feeling through Carl’s body.

  
He pulls his shirt over his head, and Carl can’t look away. His stomach is flawless. He tosses the T-shirt at him, but Carl doesn’t catch it, letting it fall to the ground. He raises one eyebrow at him and Negan smiles.

“You can sleep in that. I assume you won’t want to sleep in just your underwear. But of course, I’m perfectly fine with it if you do.” He winks and Carl laughs.

Why is he laughing? He can’t sleep in his T-shirt, he will feel too naked.

“I’m fine sleeping in this,” Carl tells him.

Negan eyes his outfit. He hasn’t made a single rude comment about Carl’s pants or loose clothing, so Carl hopes he doesn’t start now.

“Fine. Suit yourself; if you want to be uncomfortable, go ahead.” He moves toward the bed in only his boxers and begins to toss the decorative pillows onto the floor.

Carl walks over and opens the chest, and just as he had thought, it is empty. “Oh, don’t throw those down. They go in here,” he tells him, but Negan just laughs and tosses another onto the floor.

Groaning, Carl gathers the pillows and stuffs them into the chest. Negan again chuckles and pulls back the comforter before plopping down onto the bed. He crosses his arms behind his head, then crosses his feet and gives Carl a smile. Carl loves his long, lean body, it looks exquisite.

  
“You’re not going to whine about sleeping in the bed with me, are you?” he asks, and Carl roll his eyes. He actually wasn’t going to. He knows it’s wrong, but he wants to sleep in the bed with Negan more than he thinks he have ever wanted anything.

“No, the bed is big enough for both of us,” he says with a smile. He doesn't know if it’s Negan’s smile or the fact that he is wearing only boxers, but Carl’s in a much better mood than before.

“Now that’s the Carl I love,” he teases and Carl’s heart lurches at his choice of words. He knows Negan doesn’t, and would never, mean it that way, but it sounded so nice coming off his lips.

He climbs onto the bed and scoots to the edge, as far away from Negan’s body as he can. Any farther and he’ll fall off. Carl hears him chuckle and Carl rolls over on his side to face him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Negan lies, and bites his lip trying not to laugh. Carl likes this playful Negan; his humor is contagious.

“Tell me!” He pouts and puckers out his bottom lip. Negan’s eyes go straight to his mouth and he runs his tongue along his lips before hooking his lip between his teeth.

“You’ve never slept in a bed with a guy before, have you?” He rolls onto his side and moves a little closer to Carl.

“No,” Carl simply answers, and Negan’s smile grows. They are only a couple of feet apart, and before he knows what he’s doing, his hand reaches out and pokes the little dimple on Negan’s cheek. His eyes dart to Carl’s in surprise.

Negan starts to pull Carl’s hand away, but he grabs it and puts it back against his cheek, then moves it up and down his cheek slowly.

“Jesus, I don’t know why no one has fucked you yet; all that planning you do must help you put up a really good resistance,” he says, and Carl gulps.

“I’ve never really had to resist anyone,” Carl admits. Guys and girls in high school found him attractive and hit on him enough, but no one has ever tried to actually have sex with him. They all knew he was with Lydia; they were well liked and even won Homecoming Queen and King - even prom. Lydia was popular anyways.

  
“That’s either a lie or you went to an all-blind high school. Your lips alone are enough to make me hard.”

Carl gasps at his words and Negan chuckles. He brings his hand to his mouth and runs it along his wet lips. His breath is hot against Carl’s fingers, and he’s surprised when he bares his teeth and gently bites the pad of Carl’s index finger, somehow making him feel it in the pit of his stomach.

He moves Carl’s hand down to his neck and his fingertips trace the swirl of an exposed skin on his neck. Negan watches him carefully but doesn’t stop him.

“You like the way I talk to you, don’t you?” His expression is dark but so sexy. Carl’s breathing hitches and Negan smiles again. “I can see the blush in your cheeks and I can hear the way your breathing has changed. Answer me, Carl, put those full lips of yours to use,” he says, and Carl laughs nervously—he doesn't know what else to do. He will never admit the way Negan’s words turn something on deep inside of him.

He lets go of Carl’s hand but wraps his fingers around his wrist and closes the gap between them. Carl is hot, too hot. He needs to cool down or he will start sweating soon.

“Can you turn the fan on?” he asks and Negan furrows his brow. “Please.”

He sighs but climbs off the bed. “If you are hot, why don’t you change out of those heavy clothes; those pants look itchy anyway.”

Carl has been waiting on him to tease him for his clothes, but this only makes Carl smile, since he can see Negan’s true motive here.

“You should dress better, Carl. These clothes you wear are too baggy. If I didn't already see most of you naked, I wouldn't know that you have such a sexy body. Especially that ass of yours.”

Carl laughs, even though Negan is insulting him and somehow managing to compliment him at the same time. “What do you suggest I wear? Dancing tights and go shirtless forever?”

“No, well, I might love to see that, but no. You can still cover up but wear clothes your size. Pants that hug your ass and shirts that make your muscles show. Especially your bf jeans, so people can see your cock better-”

“Will you stop using those words!” Carl scolds him and Negan smiles.

Rejoining him on the bed, Negan scoots his practically naked body close to Carl’s. He still feels hot, but Negan’s odd way of complimenting him has given him a new wave of confidence. He climbs out of bed.

“Where are you going?” he slurs, his voice panicked.

“To change,” Carl says, and walks over to grab Negan’s T-shirt from the floor. “Now turn around and behave.” he says, crossing his arms.

“No.”

“What?” How can he be telling Carl no?

“I won’t turn around or behave. I want to see you.”

“Oh, okay.” But Carl just smiles, shakes his head, and turns the light off.

Negan whines, and Carl smiles to himself as he takes off his shirt. He drops it next to his feet when another light clicks on.

“Negan!” Carl hurries and picks the shirt back up. Negan is leaning up on his elbows to look at him, and he isn’t shy about his eyes moving up and down Carl’s body. He’s seen him in less clothing before, and Carl knows he isn’t going to listen, so he takes a deep breath and unzips his jeans, pulling them down.

He’s enjoying the game they have going right now. Carl knows deep down he wants Negan to look at him, that he wants Negan to want him. He’s wearing a plain white tank top and white boxers, nothing fancy or special, but Negan’s expression makes him feel sexy. He takes Negan’s T-shirt and pulls it over his head.

It smells so good, just like Negan.

“Come here,” he whispers from where he lies. Carl ignores his subconscious telling him to run away as fast as he can, and walks toward the bed.

Negan’s blazing his don’t leave Carl’s as he make his way to him. Carl props his knee up on the bed and pushes himself onto it. At the same time, Negan lifts himself up so his back is against the headboard and holds his hand out for him. The second Carl places his small hand in his, he wraps his fingers around it and pulls Carl onto him.

Carl’s knees go around his sides and he’s straddling his lap. He’s done this before with him, but never wearing so little clothing. He holds himself up using his knees so they aren’t touching, but Negan isn’t having it. He positions his hands on Carl’s hips and gently pushes him down. Negan’s T-shirt bunches at Carl’s sides, baring his thighs completely, and he’s suddenly glad that he took a long shower this morning. The second their bodies touch Carl’s stomach begins to stir. He knows this happiness that he feels isn’t going to last, and he feels like Prince Charming, waiting for the his dark knight to strike and end his blissful night.

“Much better,” Negan says and gives Carl a crooked smile.

Carl knows he’s drunk and that’s why Negan is being so nice—well, nice for him—but right now Carl will take it. If this is truly his last time around him, then this is how he wants to spend it. He keeps telling himself that. He can behave however he wants tonight with Negan because when the daylight comes, he’s going to tell him never to come near him again, and Negan will oblige. It’s for the best, and he knows that is what Negan will want when he isn’t intoxicated. In Carl’s defense, he’s just as intoxicated by Negan as he is by the bottle of scotch he consumed. He keeps telling myself that, too.

As Negan continues to stare into Carl’s eyes, he begins to feel nervous. What should he do next? He has no idea where Negan wants to take this and he doesn't want to make a fool out of himself by trying to do something first.

He seems to notice Carl’s uncomfortable expression.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, and brings a hand to Carl’s face. His finger traces over his cheekbone and Carl’s eyes involuntarily close at his surprisingly gentle touch.

“Nothing. I just don’t know what to do,” he admits and looks down.

“Do whatever you want to do, Carl. Don’t overthink it.”

Carl leans back a little to create about a foot of space between their torsos and bring his hand up to Negan’s bare chest. He looks at Negan for permission and he nods. Carl presses both hands against his chest softly and Negan closes his eyes. His fingers trace the tattoo on his chest and down lines on his abs. Negan’s eyelashes flutter as Carl traces the outline of his ribs. His expression is so calm, but his chest is moving up and down quicker than it was a few moments ago. Carl’s unable to control himself as he brings his hand down and runs his index finger along the waistband of his boxers. Negan’s eyes shoot open and he looks nervous. Negan, nervous?

“Can I… touch you?” Carl asks with the hope that Negan gets what he means without having to say it. He feels detached from himself. Who is this person straddling this guy’s lap and asking to touch him down there? He thinks back to what Negan said earlier about Carl being his true self with him. Maybe he is right. Carl loves the way he feels right now. He loves the electricity shooting through his body when their like this.

He nods. “Fuck yes.”

So Carl lowers his hand, keeping it on top of Negan boxers, and slowly he reaches the slight bulge in the fabric. Negan sucks in a breath as Carl grazes his hand over his cock. He doesn't know what to do, so he just keep touching it, running his fingers up and down. How does Negan like to be touched? Carl’s mind is in a cloud, he doesn't want to mess up for some reason.

He’s too nervous to look up at him, so he keeps his eyes on Negan’s growing crotch.

“Do you want me to show you how I like it?” Negan asks quietly, his voice shaky. The usual cocky demeanor has shifted into something mysterious.

Carl nods and Negan puts his hand over his, bringing it down to touch him again. He opens Carl’s hand and makes his fingers cup around his cock. When he sucks a breath between his lips, Carl looks up at him through his lashes. Negan takes his hand off his, giving Carl full control.

“Fuck, Carl, don’t… do that,” Negan says breathless. Confused, Carl still his hand and is about to jerk it away when Negan speaks up. “No, no, not that. Fucking hell, keep doing that—I mean don’t look at me that way.”

“What way?”

“That innocent way—that look that makes me want to do so many filthy things to you.”

Carl wants to throw himself back onto the bed and let him do whatever he wants. He wants to be his—to be freed for a moment from whatever it is that makes him so scared sometimes. Carl gives him a small smile and begins to move his hand again. He wants to take his boxers off, but he’s afraid to. A moan escapes Negan’s lips and Carl tightens his grip; he wants to hear that sound again. He doesn't know if he should move his hand faster or not, so he keeps his movements slow and tight, and he seems to like it.

Negan likes it nice and slow, who would have thought?

Carl leans in and presses his lips against the clammy skin of Negan’s neck, causing Negan to moan again.

“Fucking fuck, Carl, your hand feels so good wrapped around my cock, Jesus.” Carl gives him a little tighter squeeze out of excitement and Negan winces. “Not that hard, baby,” he says in a voice that’s soft and sounds like it could never be the same one that mocked him before.

“Sorry,” Carl says, trying not to get carried away and kisses Negan’s neck again. His tongue runs over the skin beneath his ear and Negan body jumps. His hands go to Carl’s chest and he runs his hands underneath the his shirt.

“Can I - fuck - I can't think. Your shirt. Your fucking shirt. Can I take it off?”

His voice is so uncontrolled and raspy; Carl’s amazed by the effect he is having on him. Carl nods and Negan's eyes light up in excitement. His hands are shaky as he reaches under the shirt and lifts it up, his breath hitching. Carl forces his thoughts to the back of his mind, and Negan’s fingers lightly pinch Carl’s nipples as he leans forward to kiss him. Carl moans into his mouth and reaches down and grab Negan’s cock again.

“Fuck, Carl, I’m going to come,” he says, and Carl feels his own cock throbbing in his boxers even though he is only touching his chest. Carl feels like he may come, too, from his moans and his gentle assault against his nipples alone. His legs tense under Carl and his kisses becomes sloppier. His hands drop down by Carl’s side, and Carl feels a familiar wetness spread through his boxers and he pulls his hand away. He has never made anyone else come before.

Carl’s chest heats, filling with a strange new sense that he’s now one step closer to being happy. Staring down at the wet spot on Negan’s boxers, he loves the control he feels over Negan. He loves that he could bring his body pleasure the way Negan does his.

  
Negan’s head rolls back and he takes a few deep breaths while Carl sits on his thighs, unsure what to do. After a moment, Negan’s eyes open and he lifts his head back up to look at Carl. A lazy smile crosses his face and he leans forward to kiss Carl on his forehead.

“I’ve never come so hard in my entire life,” he says, and Carl is back to being embarrassed.

“I'm sure that's a lie.” Carl says and tries to move off his legs. Negan stops him.

“What? No, you were that good. It usually takes more than someone just grabbing my cock through my boxers.”

A pang of jealousy hits Carl. He doesn't want to think about all the other people that have made Negan feel this way. He takes in Carl’s silence and cups his cheek, brushing his thumb along Carl’s temple. He’s comforted by the fact that the others had to do more than he did, but he still wishes there weren’t any others.

He doesn't know why he bothers to feel this way; Negan and him are still unresolved. They are never going to date or be anything other than this, but right now, he just wants to live in the moment, just the two of them. He laughs a little as the thought crosses his mind. He’s not a “live in the moment” type of person at all.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, but Carl shakes his head. He doesn't want to tell him about his jealous thoughts. It’s not fair, and he doesn't want that conversation.

“Fucking hell, Carl, just tell me,” he says, and Carl shakes his head again. In a very un-Negan move he grabs hold of Carl’s hips and begins to tickle him. Carl screams with laughter and falls off him and onto the soft bed. He continues to tickle him until Carl can’t breathe. Negan’s laughter booms through the room—and it’s the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. He’s never heard him laugh this way, and something tells him hardly anyone has. Despite his flaws, his many flaws, Carl consider himself lucky to see Negan in this moment.

“Okay. Okay! I’ll tell you!” Carl screeches and Negan stops.

“Good choice,” he says. But looking down, he adds, “But hold that thought. I need to change my boxers.”

Carl blushes.

  
Negan goes over to his dresser and opens the top drawer, pulling out a pair of blue-and-white plaid boxers, and holds them up in the air with a disgusted look on his face.

“What?” Carl asks, and props his head up on his elbow and looks at him.

“These are hideous,” he says.

Carl laughs, but he’s also pleased that the earlier secret about whether or not there were clothes in the dresser is now settled at least. His adoptive parents must have purchased all the clothes in the room for Negan. Which is sad, really, that they would buy clothes and fill the dresser in hopes that Negan would come around sometime.

“They aren’t so bad,” Carl tells him, and Negan rolls his eyes. He doubts anything will look as good as Negan’s usual black boxer briefs, but then again he can’t imagine anything looking actually bad on him.

“Well, beggars can’t be choosers. Back in a minute,” he says and walks out of the room wearing only his wet boxers.

Oh God, what if Enid sees him? Carl will be humiliated. He needs to find Enid first thing in the morning to explain the turn of events. But, really, what is he going to say? It’s not what it looked like. They were just talking and then he agreed to stay the night, and somehow he ended up in his boxers and a T-shirt, and then gave him the closest thing to a hand job that he knows of? That sounds terrible.

Carl lays his head onto the pillows and stares at the ceiling. He considers getting up and checking his phone but decides against it. The last thing he needs right now is to read texts from Lydia. She is probably panicking, but, honestly, as long as she doesn’t tell his father, he doesn't care as much as he should. If he’s completely honest with himself, he hasn't felt the same about Lydia since he kissed Negan for the first time.

He knows he loves Lydia; he has always loved Lydia. But he’s beginning to question whether he really loves her as a girlfriend and someone he could spend my life with, or if he loves her because she has always been such a stable person in his life. She’s always been there for him—and on paper we’re perfect for each other—but he can’t ignore the way he feels when he’s with Negan. He’s never had these types of feelings before. Not just when they're on top of each other, but the way Negan gives him butterflies just by looking at him, the way he find himself desperately wanting to see Negan even when he’s fuming mad at him, and, mostly, the way he always invades Carl’s thoughts even when he tries to convince himself that he hates him.

Negan has gotten under his skin no matter how hard he tries to deny it. He’s in Negan’s bed instead of with Lydia. On cue, the door opens and he’s snapped from his thoughts. He looks up and sees Negan in the clean plaid boxers and laughs. They are a little too big, and much longer than his briefs, but they still look great.

“I like them.” Carl smiles and Negan glares at him before turning out the light and switching on the television. He climbs back onto the bed and lies down close to Carl.

“So, what were you going to tell me?” he asks, and Carl cringes. He was hoping he wouldn’t bring it up again.

“Don’t be shy now, you’ve just made me come in my boxers,” he jokes and then pulls Carl closer to him. He buries his head in the pillow, and Negan laughs.

Carl pulls his head up and Negan tucks his hair behind Carl’s ear before giving him a soft kiss on the lips. It’s the first time Negan has kissed him that tenderly, and yet it feels more intimate than when they kiss with tongue. He lays his head back on the pillow and changes the channel. Carl wants Negan to hold him until he falls asleep, but he gets the feeling Negan isn’t a cuddling type of guy.

‘I want to be good for you, Carl’. Negan’s words from earlier tonight play in his head and he wonders if he meant them or if he was just really drunk.

“Are you still drunk?” Carl asks suddenly and lays his head on Negan’s chest. His body stills but Negan doesn’t push him off.

“No, I think our little screaming match in the yard sobered me up,” he says. One of his hands is holding the remote and the other is hanging in the air awkwardly as if he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“At least something good came out of it.”

He turns his head and looks down at him. “Yeah, I guess so,” he says, and finally puts his hand on Carl’s back. It’s an amazing feeling having Negan hold him. No matter what terrible thing he says to Carl tomorrow, he can’t take this moment away from him. This is his new favorite place to be, his head on Negan’s chest and his arm on his back.

“I think I actually like drunk Negan better.” Carl yawns.

“Is that so?” he says and turns to look at him again.

“Maybe,” Carl teases and close his eyes.

“You’re terrible at distractions; now, tell me.”

He might as well just tell him. He knows Negan isn’t going to drop it.

“Well, I was just thinking of all the people you’ve done things with.” He tries to hide his face in Negan’s chest, but he drops the remote on the bed and tilts Carl’s chin up to look at him.

“Why were you thinking about that?”

“I don’t know because I have literally no experience and you have a lot. Beth included,” he answers. The image of the two of them together makes him nauseous.

“Are you jealous, Car?” His voice is full of humor.

“No, of course not,” He lies.

“So you don’t mind if I tell you a few details, then?”

“What the hell! Please don’t!” Carl begs, and Negan chuckles and wraps his arm a little tighter around him.

He doesn’t say anything else about it, and Carl could not be more relieved. He couldn’t bear to hear the details of his flings. He feel his eyes getting heavier and tries to focus on the television. He’s so comfortable lying here in his arms.

“You’re not going to sleep, are you? It’s still early,” he says, barely breaking through Carl’s haze.

“Is it?” It feels like it has to be at least two in the morning. He arrived here around nine.

“Yeah, it’s only midnight.”

“That isn’t early.” Carl yawns again.

“To me it is. Plus, I want to return the favor.”

What?

Well, shit. How can he go to sleep now? He feels more awake than ever. Plus too, Negan’s right it is early.

His skin is starting to tingle already.

“You want me to, don’t you?” he purrs, and Carl gulps. Of course he does. He look up at Negan and tries to hide his eager smile. He notices and with a swift, delicate motion flips them over so Negan is hovering above him.

He supports his weight with one arm while his other hand reaches lower. Carl brings his legs up to Negan’s side, and when his knee bends Negan runs his hand from Carl’s ankle to the top of Carl’s thigh.

“So soft,” he says and repeats the motion. He gives Carl’s thigh a light squeeze and his skin is covered in goose bumps within seconds. Negan leans over and places a single kiss on the side of his knee, causing Carl’s leg to jerk. He grabs it and laughs, hooking his arm around it.

What is he going to do? The anticipation is driving him crazy.

“I want to kiss you everywhere, Carl,” he says, eyes locked on Carl’s to gauge his reaction.

Carl’s mouth is instantly parched. Why is he asking to kiss him, when he knows he can do that anytime? He part his lips and waits for him.

“No, fucking hell, I meant I want to suck your cock,” Negan corrects him, bringing his hand in between Carl’s legs. His lack of experience must astound him, but he at least tries to fight his smile. Carl frowns at him and Negan’s finger touches his over his boxers, causing Carl to suck in a breath. His finger makes soft traces over Carl’s as he continues to look into his eyes.

“You’re already hard for me.” His voice is raspier than usual. His hot breath stings Carl’s ear and he runs his tongue along his earlobe.

“Talk to me, Carl. Tell me how badly you want it.” He smirks and Carl squirm as he applies more pressure to his cock.

Carl can’t find his voice because his body is on fire from his touch. After a few more seconds Negan pulls his hand away and Carl groans.

“I didn’t want you to stop,” he whines.

“You didn’t fucking say anything,” Negan snaps, and Carl recoils. He doesn't want this Negan. He wants the laughing, playful one.

“Couldn’t you tell?” Carl asks him and moves to sit up.

Negan pulls himself up and sits on Carl’s thighs, holding his weight on his parted knees. He brushes his fingers across the tops of his thighs and Carl’s body instantly reacts, shifting his hips to meet Negan’s.

“Say it,” Negan instructs. He knows damn well that Carl wants; he just wants to make him say it aloud. He nods and Negan waves his finger back and forth in front of him.

“No nodding, just tell me what you want, baby,” he says, and climbs off of Carl’s knees. Carl mentally weigh the pros and cons of this situation. Is the humiliation of telling Negan that he wants him to suck him off worth the feeling he will get from him doing it? If it feels anywhere near as good as what Negan did to him with only a handjob the other day, then he knows it’s worth it.

Carl reaches out and grab Negan’s bare shoulder to stop him from moving any farther away from him. He’s over thinking this, he knows he is, but his mind won’t stop racing.

“I want you to.” Carl moves closer to him.

“Want me to what, Carlton?” He has to be kidding me; he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“You know to kiss me,” Carl says and Negan smile grows. He leans over and plants a kiss on his lips. Carl rolls his eyes and Negan kisses him again.

“Is that what you wanted?” he says with a smirk and Carl swats his arm. He is going to make Carl beg him.

“Just suck me off already!”

Carl blushes at own words and covers his face with his hands. Negan pulls them away, laughing, and Carl frowns at him. “You’re embarrassing me on purpose.” He scowls. Negan’s hands are still on his.

“I’m not meaning to embarrass you. I just want to hear you say what you want from me.”

“Never mind, Negan,” he says and sighs loudly. Because he’s embarrassed and maybe his hormones are going haywire and messing with his emotions but now the moment has passed and he’s annoyed with his ego and constant need to goad him. He rolls over and lies on his side, facing away from Negan, and covers himself with the blanket.

  
“Hey, I’m sorry,” he says, but Carl ignores him. He knows part of him is just annoyed at himself that being around Negan has turned him into a typical hormonal teenager.

“Good night, Negan,” he snaps and Negan sighs. He mutters something under his breath that sounds like “fucking fine,” but Carl doesn't ask him to repeat it. He forces his eyes closed and tries to think of anything besides Negan’s tongue or the way his arm just draped across his body as he falls asleep.

~O~

He’s hot, too hot. Carl tries to pull the covers off him, but they won’t budge. When his eyes open, the night before comes flooding into his mind: Negan screaming at him in the yard, the scotch on his breath, the broken glass in the kitchen, Negan kissing him, Negan moaning as Carl touched him, his wet boxers. He tries to lift Negan, but he’s too heavy, his head lying across Carl’s chest and his arm wrapped around his waist, his body cloaking his. He’s surprised they ended up like this; Negan must have moved this way in his sleep. He has to admit, he doesn't want to leave this bed, leave Negan, but he has to. He has to get back to his room. Lydia is there. Lydia. Lydia.

He gently pushes Negan off by his shoulder, rolling him onto his back. Then Negan rolls onto his stomach and groans but doesn’t wake.

Carl hurries to his feet and grabs his scattered clothes off the floor. Being the coward that he is, he wants to be out of here by the time Negan wakes. Not that Negan will mind; at least he won’t have to invest his energy in hurting Carl on purpose if he leaves on his own. This way is better for both of them. Regardless of how they laughed together last night, nothing is the same in the light of day. Negan will remember how they got along pretty well last night and then will feel the need to be extra hateful to make up for it.

It’s what he does, and Carl will not be around this time. For a second last night, the thought had crossed his mind that maybe their night together would change Negan’s mind, make him want to have more with him. But he knows better, really.

Carl folds his T-shirt neatly on the dresser and zips his jeans up. His shirt is wrinkled from lying on the floor last night, but that’s really the least of his worries at the moment. He slips his feet into his shoes and as he grabs hold of the door handle, he thinks, one more look back won’t hurt.

He looks back to the sleeping Negan. His jet black hair is sprawled onto the pillow, and his arm is now draped over the side of the bed. He looks so peaceful, so beautiful despite the pieces of frown in his face.

Carl turns back around and turns the door handle.

“Carl?”

His heart drops. He slowly turns back around to Negan, expecting to see his harsh hazel eyes glaring at him. But instead, they are closed; a frown is set on his face, but he is still asleep. Carl can’t decide if he’s relieved that Negan is asleep, or somber that he called out his name. Is that what he did, or is he hearing things now?

He jumps out of the room and gently closes the door behind him. He has no idea how to get out of this house. He walks straight down the hall and he is relieved to find the stairs easily. He pads down the stairs and nearly collides with Enid. His pulse quickens as he tries to think of something to say. Her eyes scan his face and he stays silent, waiting for an explanation, he assumes.

“Enid…” He has no idea what to say.

“Are you okay?” She asks with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I know you must think—”

“I don’t think anything. I really do appreciate you coming. I know you don’t like Negan, and it means a lot to me that you would come here to help get him in control.”

She is so nice, too nice. He almosts wants her to tell him how disgusted she is that he stayed the night with Negan, that he left his girlfriend alone in his room all night after he took her car and ran to Negan’s rescue, just so he feels as bad as he should.

“So are you and Negan friends again?” She asks, and he shrugs.

“I have no idea what we are. I have no idea what I’m doing. He just-” Carl breaks into sobs. Enid wraps her arms around him in a warm and comforting hug.

“It’s okay. I know he can be so terrible,” Enid says softly. Wait, she must think that he’s crying because Negan did something terrible to him. She would probably never assume that he’s crying because of his feelings for Negan.

He needs to get out of here before he ruins Enid’s good opinion of him and before Enid wakes up. “I have to go. Lydia is waiting,” he says, and Enid gives him a sympathetic smile before saying goodbye.

He gets into Lydia’s car and drives back to his dorm as fast as he can, crying most of the way there. How will he explain this all to Lydia? He knows he has to—he can’t lie to her. He just can’t imagine how much this will hurt her.

He’s a terrible person for doing this to her. Why couldn’t he just stay away from Negan?

He’s calmed himself as much as he can before he pulls into the student lot. He walks as slow as he can, unsure how he’s going to face Lydia.

When he opens the door to his room, he finds Lydia lying back on his small bed, staring at the ceiling. She jumps up when she sees him come in.

“Jesus, Carl! Where have you been all night? I’ve been calling you nonstop!” She shouts. This is the first time Lydia has ever actually raised her voice at him. They have bickered before, but this is a little scary to see.

“I’m so, so sorry, Lydia. I went to Enid’s house because Negan was drunk and he was breaking things, and the time just got lost, I guess, so by the time we cleaned up, it was really late and my phone was dead,” he lies.

He can’t believe he’s lying straight to her face—all the times she has been there for him, and here he is lying to her. He knows he should tell her but he can’t imagine hurting her.

“Why didn’t you use someone else’s phone?” She says forcefully, but then pauses. “Never mind—Negan was breaking stuff? Are you okay? Why did you stay there if he was being violent?”

He feels like she is asking him a thousand questions at once, disorienting him.

“He wasn’t being violent; he was just drunk. He wouldn’t hurt me,” Carl says and covers his mouth, desperately wishing he could push those last words back in.

“What do you mean he wouldn’t hurt you? You don’t even know him, Carl,” she snaps and takes a step toward him.

“I’m just saying that he wouldn’t hurt me like physically. I know him well enough to know that. I was just trying to help Enid, who was there, too,” he says back.

But Negan would hurt him, emotionally—he already has, and he’s sure he will try again. And here he is defending him.

“I thought you were going to stop hanging around him? Didn’t you promise me and your father that you would? Carl, he isn't good for you. You’ve started drinking and staying out all night, and you left me here all night—I don’t know why you even had me come here if you were just going to leave.” She sits down on the bed and rests her head on her hands.

“He isn't a bad person; you don’t know him. When did you become so judgmental?” He asks her. He should be begging for her to forgive him for how badly he has treated her, but he can’t help but be irritated by the way she’s talking about his friend.

  
“I’m not judgmental, but you would have never hung out with people like him before.”

“What? What do you mean people like him. Didn't you use to hang around people like him,” He says. He’s as surprised by the defiance in his words as Lydia is.

“That was in my past and you _know_ what happened to me. Besides, I don’t like you hanging out with him—he’s changing you. You aren’t the same Carl that I fell in love with.” He realizes then that her tone hasn’t been malicious at all. It’s just sad.

“Well, Lydia—” he begins, and the door flies open. His eyes follow Lydia’s to an angry Negan storming into the room.

He looks at Negan, then at Lydia, and back to Negan. There is no way this is going to go well.

  
“What are you doing here?” Carl asks Negan, even though he doesn't want to hear the answer, especially not in front of Lydia.

“Why do you think? You snuck out on me while I was asleep—what the hell was that?!” Negan screams. Carl holds in breath as Negan’s voice echoes off the wall. Lydia’s face flashes with anger and he knows that she’s beginning to put the puzzle pieces together.

And he’s torn between trying to explain to Lydia what is going on and trying to explain to Negan why he left.

“Fucking answer me, FUCK!” Negan yells and stands in front of his face. He’s surprised when Lydia steps between them.

“Don’t yell at him,” she warns Negan.

He’s frozen in place while Negan’s face twists in anger. Why is he so mad that Carl left? He was mocking his inexperience last night, and would have kicked him out this morning probably anyway. He needs to say something before this all blows up in his face.

“Negan, please don’t do this right now,” he begs. If he leaves now, Carl can try to explain to Lydia what is going on.

“Do what, Carlton?” Negan asks and walks around Lydia. She keeps her distance and throws Negan a disgusted look.

What the hell is happening in his life that he has to worry about Lydia and Negan arguing?

“Negan, please just go and we will talk about this later,” he says, trying to defuse things.

But Lydia just shakes her head. “Talk about what? What the hell is going on, Carl?”

Oh God.

“Tell her; go on and tell her,” Negan says.

He can’t believe Negan is doing this. He knows how cruel he can be, but this takes it to a whole other level.

“Tell me what, Carl?” Lydia asks, and he can see her stance is an aggressive one, because of Negan, but it’s softening as she wonders about Carl.

“Nothing, just what you know, that I stayed at Negan and Enid’s last night,” he lies. He tries to match his blue eyes to Negan’s in hopes that he will stop this now, but he looks away immediately.

“Tell her, Carl, or I will,” Negan growls.

He knows it’s all lost. He knows there’s no hiding anything anymore, and he begins to cry. But he wants Lydia to hear it from him, not the smirking asshole who’s brought them to this point. He’s humiliated—not for himself, but for Lydia. She doesn’t deserve any of this, and he’s ashamed of the way he has treated her and the confessions he’s going to be forced to make in front of Negan. “Lydia, Negan and I have been… ” he starts.

“No,” Lydia stutters, and her eyes begin to water.

How could he do this to her? What the hell was he thinking? Lydia is so kind, and Negan’s cruel enough to break Lydia’s heart in front of him.

Lydia’s hands go to her forehead and she shakes her head. “How could you, Carl? After everything we have been through? When did this start?” Tears stream down her face from her bright green eyes. He has never felt this terrible—he caused those tears. He looks over at Negan and his hatred for him consumes Carl so much that he shoves Negan instead of answering Lydia. Negan is caught off guard and stumbles backward, but he steadies himself before he falls.

“Lydia, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He rushes over to his girlfriend and tries to hug her, but she refuses to let him touch her. And she’s probably right to. If he’s being honest, he has not been good to Lydia for a while.

He doesn't know what the hell he was thinking. He supposes something crazy like Negan becoming decent and him breaking up with Lydia so Carl could date him—how stupid can he be? Or that he could just stay away from Negan and Lydia would never know about what happened between them? The problem is that he can’t stay away from Negan. Both were stupid and naïve ideas, but he hasn't made one good choice since he has met Negan.

  
“I don’t know what you were thinking, either,” Lydia says, with a look of regret and hurt in her eyes. “I don’t even know you anymore.”

And with that, she walks out the door. Out of his life.

“Lydia, please! Wait!” He rushes after her, but Negan grabs his arm and tries to pull him back.

“Don’t touch me! I can’t believe you! This is low, Negan, even for you.” He screams and jerks his arm out of his grasp. He pushes Negan again, hard. He has never pushed anyone in his life before today, and he hates him so much.

“If you go after her, I’m done,” Negan says, and Carl’s mouth falls open.

“Done? Done with what? Fucking with my emotions? I hate you!” But not wanting Negan to feed off his rage, he slows down and speaks more calmly. “You can’t end something that never began.”

His hands fall to his sides and his mouth opens but no words come out.

“Lydia!” Carl calls and rushes out the door. He has to run down the hall and out across the great lawn, finally catching up to her in the parking lot. She starts walking faster.

“Lydia, please listen. I’m sorry, so sorry. I was drinking. I know that isn’t an excuse, but I-” He wipes his eyes and her face softens.

“I can’t listen to you anymore.” She says. Her eyes are red. Carl reaches for her hand, but she pulls away.

“Lydia, please forgive me. Please.” He can’t lose her. He just can’t.

Reaching her car, she runs a hand over her perfectly pulled ponytail, then turns to face him. “I just need some time, Carl. I don’t know what to think right now.”

He sighs in defeat, not knowing what to say to that. She just needs time to get over this and then they can go back to normal. She just needs time, he tells himself.

“I love you, Carl,” Lydia says, then catches him by surprise when she kisses his cheek before climbing into her car and driving away.

  
Being the disgusting person that he is, Negan is sitting on his bed when he returns. Visions of Carl grabbing the lamp and bashing him in the head flash through his mind, but he doesn't have the energy to fight with him.

“I’m not going to apologize for shit,” Negan tells him as he walks past him toward Noah’s bed. Carl will not sit on his bed while he’s on it.

“I know you aren’t,” Carl says and lies back.

He won’t let Negan bait him into this fight, and he doesn't expect him to apologize. He knows him better by now. Well, recent history would say that he doesn't know him at all. Last night he thought Negan was just an angry boy who had to left his drunk mother, and that he held onto that hurt, using the only emotion he could to keep people out. This morning, Carl sees that he is just a terrible, hateful person. There is nothing good about Negan. At one moment he believed there was, it was only because that is what he tricked him into believing.

“She needed to know,” Negan says.

Carl bites down on his lip to prevent the angry from returning. He stays quiet until he hears Negan get up and move towards him. “Just go, Negan,” he says, but when he looks up he is standing over him. When he sits down on the bed, Carl jumps up.

“He needed to know,” he repeats, and anger boils inside Carl again. He knows he just wants to get a rise out of him.

“Why, Negan? Why did she need to know? How could hurting her possibly be a good thing? You weren’t affected one bit by her not knowing—you could have gone on with your day without telling her. You had no right to do that to her, or me.” He feels the tears coming again but this time he can’t stop them.

“I would want to know if I was her,” Negan says, his voice steady and cold.

“You aren’t her, though, and you never will be. I was stupid to think you could possibly be anything even close to her. And since when do you care about what is right?”

“Don’t you dare compare me to her,” Negan snaps. He hates the way Negan chooses only one of his statements to respond to, and that he usually warps what he’s saying to better provoke himself. Negan stands up and moves toward Carl, but he backs away to the other side of the bed.

“There is no comparison. Don’t you get that by now? You are a cruel and disgusting jerk who doesn’t give a shit about anyone but yourself. And she—she loves me. She is willing to try to forgive me for my mistakes.” He stares into Negan’s eyes. “My terrible mistakes,” he adds.

Negan takes a step back as if he has been pushed. “Forgive you?”

“Yeah, she will forgive me for this. I know she will. Because she loves me, so your pathetic plan to get her to break up with me so you can sit back and laugh didn’t work. Now get out of my room.”

“Fucking hell, that wasn't what I—” he starts to say, but Carl cuts him off. He’s wasted enough time on him already.

“Get out! I know you’re probably already plotting your next move against me, but guess what, Negan? It isn’t going to work anymore. Now get the fuck out of my room!” He’s surprised at his harsh words, but he doesn't feel bad for using them against Negan.

“That isn’t what I’m doing, Carl. I thought after last night, fuck, I don’t know, I thought you and I… fucking fuck… ” He seems to be at a loss for words, which is a first. Part of him, a huge part of him, is dying to know what Negan is going to say, but this is how he got so tangled in his web in the first place. He uses Carl’s curiosity against him, like it’s all a game to Negan. He furiously wipes his eyes, thankful he has choked Negan out by now.

“You aren’t really expecting me to buy that, are you? That you feel something for me?”

Carl needs to stop and Negan needs to leave before his claws sink deeper into him.

“Of course I do, Carl. You make me feel so—”

“No! I don’t want to hear it, Negan. I know you’re lying, and this is your sick way of getting off. To make me believe that you could possibly feel the same way about me as I do about you, and then will flip the switch. I know how this goes by now, and I won’t keep it going.”

“Feel the same way you do? Are you saying that you have feelings for me?” His eyes flash with what appears to be hope. He is a much better actor than Carl thought.

He knows Carl does, he has to know that. What other reason could there be for Carl to keep this unhealthy cycle between them going? With a fear he’s never felt before, he realizes that though he had barely admitted his feelings for Negan to himself, and now have put them out there in front of him, giving him easy access to smash them. Worse than he already has.

Carl feels his walls slowly being torn down by the way Negan is looking at him and he can’t let it happen. “Leave, Negan. I won’t ask again. If you don’t leave I will call campus security.”

“Car, please answer me,” he begs.

“Don’t call me Car; that name is reserved for family, friends, for people who actually care about me—now leave!” He yells, much louder than he had planned. He needs him to get out and get away from him. He hates when Negan calls him Carlton, but he hates when he calls me Car even more. Something about the way his lips move when he says it makes it sound so intimate, so lovely. Damn it, Carl. Just stop.

“Please, I need to know if you—”

“What a long weekend —I’m exhausted!” Noah says as he bursts into the room, playful exhaustion coloring his words. But when he notices Carl’s tearstained cheeks, he stops and her eyes narrow at Negan.

“What is going on? What did you do?!” He yells at him. “Where is Lydia?” He asks and looks at Carl.

“She left, just like Negan is about to,” he tells Noah.

“Fucking hell, Carl please…” Negan begins.

“Noah, please make him leave,” he begs and he nods. Negan’s mouth falls open with annoyance at his use of Noah against him. He thought he had Carl trapped again.

“Let’s go, Heartbreaker,” Noah says and grabs Negan’s arm, dragging him toward the door.

Carl stares at the wall until he hears the door shut but immediately hears their voices in the hall.

“What the hell, Negan? I told you to stay away from him; he is my friend and he’s not like the other people you mess with. He’s nice, innocent, and, honestly, too good for you.”

He’s pleased and surprised by the way Noah is sticking up for him. But it still doesn’t soothe the pain in his chest. His heart literally hurts. He thought he had experienced heartbreak after his day with Negan at the stream, but that was nothing compared to how he feels right now. He hates to admit it to himself, but he knows that spending the night with Negan last night made his feelings for him so much stronger than they already were.

Hearing him laugh while he tickled Carl, the way he gently kissed his lips, his muscled arms wrapping around him, the way his eyes fluttered and closed when Carl traced his fingers over his bare skin—all of it made him fall deeper for him. Those intimate moments between them that made him care for Negan more also make this hurt so much more. On top of that, he has hurt Lydia in a way that he can only pray she forgives him for.

“It’s not like that.” In Negan's anger, his voice has become thick and his words clipped.

“Bullshit, Negan, I know you well enough. Find someone else to mess around with; there are plenty of other people. He isn’t the type of person you need to be doing this with; he has a girlfriend and he can’t handle this shit.”

He doesn't like hearing them say that he’s too sensitive, like he’s weak or something, but he’s guess their right. He has done nothing but cry and yell since he has met Negan, and now he has tried to ruin his relationship with Lydia. He doesn't have what it takes to be something like friends with benefits, regardless of how he makes Carl feel. He has more respect for himself than that and he’s too angry.

“Fucking fine. I’ll stay away from him. But don’t bring him to anymore parties at my house,” Negan snaps, and he hears Negan stomping off. As he goes down the hall, his voice recedes, too, as he yells, “I fucking mean it, I don’t want to see him again! And if I do, I will ruin him! I WILL FUCKING RUIN HIM!”

~O~

Noah walks in and right away wraps his long arms around him. It’s odd that it's comforting.

“Thank you for making him leave,” he says, sobbing, and Noah hugs him tighter. His tears really are flowing now and he doesn't see an end in sight.

“Negan may be my acquaintance, but you are my friend, and I don't want him upsetting you. I’m sorry, this is all my fault. I knew I should have invited you to those parents, and I shouldn’t have let him come around you all the time. He can be a real dick.”

“No, it’s not your fault at all. I’m sorry, I don’t want to come in between your… friendship.”

“It’s cool,” Noah says.

Carl pulls out of his embrace and sees the look of concern on his face. He appreciates him being here with him more than he will ever know. He feels completely alone: Lydia’s taking time to decide whether to break up with him or not, Negan is an asshole, his father would lose it if he talked to him about this, and Enid would be disappointed in him if she knew the depth of his situation with Enid. And Michonne is busy. He literally have no one except for Noah, who he has never expected would become his close friend in college, being roommates. But he’s really glad they did.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Carl does, actually, he wants to get it all off his chest. He tell him everything, from the first time he kissed Negan, to their day at the stream, to the orgasm Negan gave him and how Negan called his name in his sleep, to the way he destroyed every ounce of respect Carl had for him when he made Carl tell Lydia. Noah’s face goes from concerned to shocked to sad during his story. His shirt is soaked with tears by the time he finishes and he is patting my shoulder.

“Wow, I had no idea that so much happened. You could have told me after the first time. I knew something was up when Negan showed up here the night we were going to the movies. I had literally just got off the phone with Simon, then he shows up, so I’d suspected he came here to see you. Listen, Negan is a good guy, sometimes. I mean, deep down he just doesn’t know how to really care for someone the way that you—well, most people—need to be cared for. If I was you, I would try to make things work with Lydia because Negan isn’t capable of being anyone’s boyfriend,” he says and squeezes his shoulder again.

Carl knows everything he is saying is true and he is right. So why does it hurt so bad?

  
~O~

On Monday morning, Enid is leaning against the brick outside the coffeehouse, waiting for him. He waves when he sees her, but then he notices she has a bandages wrapped around her left hand. And when he looks closer, he sees another bruise on her arm.

“What happened to your hand?!” He exclaims, running up to her.

Realization hits him like a truck. “Enid! Did Negan do this?” His voice is shaky.

“What? Oh yeah. I punched in the face and broke two of my fingers,” she admits and he’s horrified.

“Why? What happened?” Carl wants to kill Negan.

“He stormed out of the house after you left and then came back about an hour later. He was so pissed. He started looking around for more stuff to break, so I stopped him. Well, we wrestled like we did when we were kids. It wasn’t so bad, actually. I think both of us got a lot of our anger toward each other out. It's fine, we are always rough with each other. He taught me how to fight so I got quite a few good hits on him,” she boasts with a huge grin like her fingers aren't broken.

He don’t know what to say. He’s surprised at Enid’s light tone while talking about wrestling with Negan.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Is there anything I can do?” He asks her. He feels like this is his fault. Negan was mad because of him, but trying to do something to Enid?

“No, really, I’m okay.” She smiles.

While they walk to class she tells him how their father broke up their wrestling match, luckily arriving home before they killed each other, and how their mother cried when she realized Negan had broken all her dishes. Though they didn’t have any sentimental value, she was hurt that Negan would do that nonetheless.

“But in other news, much better news, Ron is coming to visit next weekend. He is coming to the bonfire!” She smiles.

“Bonfire?”

“Yeah, haven’t you seen the signs all over campus? It’s an annual thing, to start the new year. Everyone goes. I am not usually into stuff like that, but it’s actually a pretty good time. Lydia should come up again. We can make a double date out of it.”

Carl smiles and nods. Maybe inviting Lydia would show her he does have some good friends, like Enid. He knows Negan and Enid—he means, Lydia and Enid would get along great, and he really wants to meet Ron.

Now that Enid has mentioned the bonfire, he notices signs littering almost every wall. He guesses he was just too distracted all week to notice.

Before he knows it, he’s in Media and begins scanning the room for Negan, despite his subconscious shouting at him not to. When he doesn't see him his voice plays in Carl’s head: I will ruin him.

What could he possibly do that’s worse than outing Carl in front of Lydia? He doesn't know, but he starts imagining things until Enid breaks him out of his zone.

“I don’t think he’s here. I heard him talking to that Dwight guy about switching his classes around. Darn, I do wish you could see his black eye.” Enid smiles at him and his eyes snap to the front of the room.

He wants to deny that he was looking for Negan, but he knows he can’t. Negan has a black eye? Carl hopes he is okay; no, he doesn't, actually. He hopes it hurts like hell.

“Oh, okay,” he mumbles and pick at his sweatpants.

Enid doesn’t mention Negan for the rest of the class.

  
~O~

The rest of the week is exactly the same way: He doesn't talk about Negan to anyone and no one mentions him to Carl. Beth has been hanging out in their room all week, but he doesn't mind. He actually really likes her and she makes Noah laugh, and even him, too, sometimes, despite what seems to be the worst week of his life. He’s just been wearing whatever is clean and handy and his hat on every day. He is back to his normal routine.

Sleep, class, study, eat, sleep, class, study, eat.

By Friday, Noah’s clearly making an effort to get this spinster out and about.

“Come on, Carl, it’s Friday. Just come with us and we’ll drop you back off before we go to Neg- I mean the party,” he begs, but Carl shakes his head. He doesn't feel like doing anything. He needs to study and call his father and Michonne. He’s been dodging their calls all week, and he needs to call Lydia and find out if she’s made a decision. He’s been giving her space all week, only sending her a few friendly texts in hopes that she will come around. He really wants her to come to the bonfire next Friday.

“I think I will pass. I’m looking at cars tomorrow, so I need my rest,” He half lies. He really is going to look at cars tomorrow but he knows he won't be getting rest sitting here alone with his thoughts about Lydia’s uncertainty, about how Negan was obviously serious about staying away from him—which he’s really glad Negan has done. He just can’t shake him from his thoughts. He just needs more time, he keeps telling himself.

But the way Negan acted like he wanted something from Carl the last time he saw him, that got under his skin.

His thoughts drift off to a place where Negan was pleasant and funny and they get along. A place where they could date, really date, and he would take Carl out to the movies or to dinner. He would put his arm around Carl and be proud that he was his; he would drape his jacket over his shoulders if Carl was cold and kiss him good night, promising Carl that he would see him tomorrow.

“Carl?” Noah says and his thoughts disappear like a puff of smoke. They weren’t reality and the boy in his daydream would never be Negan.

“Oh come on, you’ve been wearing those Spider-Man pants all week,” Beth teases and Carl laughs. These pants are his favorite to wear to bed, especially when he is sick, or going through a breakup, or two. He’s still confused about how Negan and him ended something that was nothing to begin with.

“Okay. Okay, but you need to drop me off right after dinner because I have to get up early,” Carl warns.

Beth whistles and jumps up and down. “Yay! Just please let me do you a favor?” she asks with an innocent smile while she bats her lashes.

“What?” Carl whines, knowing she is up to no good.

“Let me give you a little makeover? Pleeeaassee!” She draws out the word for dramatic purposes.

“No. Way.” He can picture myself with pink hair and pounds of stuff on his face, wearing only a speedo.

“Nothing too dramatic, I just want to make you look like you haven’t been hibernating in pajamas all week.” She smiles and Noah tries to stifle his laugh.

And when Carl gives in and says, “Fine,” as she begins clapping again.


	6. SIX

  
After Beth has washed his hair—a procedure that hurt worse than imagined because her nails—she turns Carl around and refuses to let him see himself until she’s done putting stuff on his face. He fights the nervous feeling in his stomach as she creates a face mask for him. He reminds her over and over not to put too much girl stuff on him, and she promises over and over that she won’t. She brushes his hair and curls it slightly at the end before coating his hair and half of the room with hair spray and gel.

“Face and hair: done! Let’s get you changed, and then you can see yourself. Lets look like in your closet.” She is obviously proud of her work. Carl just hope that he doesn't look like a clown. Following her to the closet, he tries to sneak a peek in Noah’s small mirror but she yanks him away.

“Here, put this on,” she says, pulling a black shirt off a hanger. “Out, you!” she shouts at Noah, and he laughs but graciously leaves the room.

The shirt is button down and looks incredibly tight. He hasn’t worn this is years probably. He doesn't even remember owning this shirt until now. “I can’t wear this!”

“Fine! How about this one?” She pulls another black shirt out. He didn't know he had so many. This one looks looser than the last and has a collar.

When he takes too long looking it over, she sighs. “Just try it, please?”

Carl obliges and takes his comfortable pajamas off and folds them into a neat pile. He doesn't know why he’s comfortable around her and not… never mind. She rolls her eyes at him playfully and he smiles while trying the shirt on. It's a little snug. He then realizes this is Noah’s shirt. Beth is sneaky. Him and Noah aren’t that much different in size but Noah is taller and Carl’s broader.

“You want some jeans?” she asks.

“Yeah, I can’t go out bottomless.” He laughs. She digs into Carl’s drawer and pulls out two different pairs of jeans. “These are plain black, and one is made out of leather.”

He grabs the plain ones and puts them while Beth digs through his closet for shoes.

“I can’t wear boots!” He reminds her. He thinks they would be too much for this outfit. “Well, you have regular boots or sneakers. Carl, I’m sorry but your Vans just won’t work with those jeans.”

He scowls at her jokingly. He’s perfectly fine wearing Vans every day. She pulls out a pair of black boots with fur on the inside - also Noah’s. Carl could never wear them.

“You like these?”

Carl nods. “Yeah, but those are Noah's,” he tells her and she frowns.

“So, he won’t mind.”

“I don't know…”

She laughs.“Just try them.”

Carl sits on the bed and stretches his legs out, gesturing for her to put them on him.

She helps him stand up and they are a little bug but they fit comfortable - he likes them. His thick socks help with the balance.

“I can’t wait any longer! Look at yourself,” she says and opens the other closet door. Carl looks in the full-body mirror and gasps.

Who the heck is that? His reflection looks just like him, but a lot better. The bags under his eyes are gone and his skin feels different, much softer. His blue eyes look lighter and his hair looks washed, shiny and feel of life, not the small, stringy hair was expecting. The face mask Beth did is definitely working now.

“I’m impressed.” He smiles and looks closer. He pokes his cheek to make sure what he’s seeing is real.

“See, you are still you. Just a more sexy, well-kept you.” She giggles and calls for Noah to join them.

He opens the door and his lips part. “Where is Carl?” he asks and looks around the room playfully. He picks up a pillow and looks under it.

“What do you think?” Carl asks and straighten his shirt again.

“You look great, but you are wearing my clothes.” Noah smiles and wraps his arm around Beth’s waist. She leans in and Carl looks away.

“Oh, one more thing,” she says and reaches over to the dresser, pulling out a tube of chapstick and puckering her lips. He closes his eyes and does the same while she rubs the minty stick across his lips.

“Ready?” Noah asks and Beth nods.

As they head out, he grabs his bag and throws a pair of Vans inside, just in case.

  
~O~

During the drive, he sits in the back and stares out the window, letting his mind wander. When they arrive at the restaurant, he cringed at the number of motorcycles outside. He had assumed they would be going somewhere like T.G.I. Friday’s or Applebee’s, not a biker bar and grill. When they walk inside he feels like everyone is staring at him, even though they probably aren’t.

Beth grabs a hold of his hand and pulls him along as they walk to a booth in the back. “Simon is coming. That’s okay, right?” she asks as they take their seats.

“Yeah, of course,” he tells her. As long as it’s not Negan, he doesn't mind. Besides, some company would be nice, because right now he feels like the third wheel.

A woman with even more tattoos strides over to the table and takes their drink order. Noah and Beth order beers. This must be why they like to come here, because they don’t card. The woman raises an eyebrow when he orders a Coke, but he doesn't want to drink. He has studying to do when he gets back to his room. Minutes later she brings their drinks and he’s taking a big swig when he hears a wolf whistle as Simon and Dwight walk toward their table. As they get closer, Sherry’s shiny hair comes into view followed by Negan.

NEGAN!?

He spits the Coke back into his cup.

Beth’s eyes widen as she lays eyes on Negan and she looks at him. “I swear I didn’t know he was coming. We can leave now if you want,” she whispers as Dwight slides into the booth next to him. He has to force himself not to look towards Negan.

“Whoa, Carl, you look awesome!” Dwight proclaims, and Carl blushes. “Really, like wow! I’ve never seen you like this.”

Carl thanks him by way of a small smile. Simon, Sherry, and Negan sit in the booth behind them. He wants to ask Beth to trade seats with him so his back will be to Negan, but he can’t bring himself to. He will just avoid eye contact with Negan the entire time. He can do it.

  
(Yeah right)

 

“You do look hot, Carl,” Simon says over the divider, and Carl smiles because he’s not used to all this attention. Negan hasn’t commented on his new look, but he didn't expect him to. He’s just glad Negan isn’t insulting him.

Negan and Sherry are sitting right in his line of sight. He can see Negan’s entire face through the space between Beth and Noah’s shoulders.

If he just looks once, it couldn’t hurt - stealing a peek before he can stop himself, he instantly regrets it. Negan’s arm is hooked around Sherry’s shoulders.

Jealousy tears through him—his punishment for looking at him when he shouldn’t be. Of course they are probably messing around again. Or still. They probably never stopped. Carl remembers how comfortable she was straddling him at the party, and he swallows down the bile rising in his throat. Negan is free to do whatever or whoever he pleases.

“He does look great, doesn’t he?” Beth encourages them and they all nod.

Carl can feel Negan’s eyes on him but he can’t look over at him again. He is wearing a white T-shirt that Carl’s sure lets his tattoos show through, and his hair is perfectly gelled back, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care how good he looks or how skanky Sherry is dressed.

She’s so irritating, with her stupid hair and her skanky clothes. She is a slut. He’s surprised by his thoughts and his anger toward her, but it’s true. And he really doesn't like her. He doesn't think he’s actually ever called anyone a slut, even in his head.

So of course she picks right now to compliment him. “You do look handsome, better than ever before!” she says and then leans into Negan’s chest.

Carl makes eye contact with her and fakes a smile.

“Mind if I have a sip?” Dwight asks, but grabs his cup before he really answer.

Carl lets him drink out of his glass, which he’s usually against, but he’s so uncomfortable right now that he can’t think straight. Dwight gulps down half his Coke and Carl nudges him.

“Sorry, babe, I’ll order you another,” he says smoothly. Dwight really is something and looks more like a construction work than a college student. Carl decides he likes his rough Southern look, it's kinda cute.

A noise comes from the other booth, and his eyes dart to Negan. He clears his throat loudly, staring at Carl with blazing eyes. Carl wants to look away, but he can’t. He’s caught in his gaze as Dwight lifts his arm up and rests it on the back of the booth, directly behind him.

Negan’s eyes narrow and Carl decides to have a little fun.

Remembering that he was pretty adamant about him not hanging out with Dwight before, Carl leans into Dwight ever so slightly. Negan’s eyes go wide (it's almost comical), but he quickly recovers. Carl knows how immature and ridiculous this whole thing is, but he doesn’t care. If he has to be around him, Carl wants him to be as uncomfortable as he is.

The biker woman returns and takes everyone’s food order. Carl goes with a burger and fries, minus the pickles, and everyone else orders hot wings. She brings Negan a Coke and the rest of them another round of beers. He’s still waiting on his Coke but he doesn't want to be rude by pointing that out to the woman.

“They have the best wings here,” Dwight informs him and Carl smiles at him.

“So are you going to the bonfire next weekend?” Carl asks him.

“I don’t know, it’s not really my scene.” He takes a drink of his beer and brings his arm down from the booth to rest fully over Carl’s shoulder. “Are you going?”

He doesn't look his way, but he imagine Negan’s irritation at this. Truth is, he does feel guilty flirting with Dwight this way, and he’s never really tried to flirt with anyone before, so he’s sure he’s terrible at it. “Yeah, with Enid.”

Everyone bursts into laughter. “Enid Greene?” Dwight asks, still laughing.

“Yeah, she’s my friend,” he snaps. He doesn't like the way they are all laughing at him.

“She would go to the bonfire! She is such a lame,” Sherry says, and Carl glares at her.

“No, she isn’t, actually. She is really cool,” Carl says in her defense. He understands that his definition of cool is not the same as theirs, but his is better.

“Enid Greene and cool do not belong in the same sentence,” Sherry says and brushes Negan’s hair back.

He hates her.

“Well, sorry if she isn’t cool enough to hang out with you guys, but she is…” Carl starts to shout and sits up straighter in the booth, knocking Dwight’s arm off his shoulders.

“Whoa, Carl, calm down. We are just teasing,” Simon says and Sherry smirks at Carl. He gets the feeling she doesn’t care for him much, either.

“Well, I don’t like when people tease my friends, especially when she isn’t here to defend herself.” He needs to calm down. His emotions are running wild from being around Negan and the way he’s hanging all over Sherry in front of him.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Besides, I do gotta give her some credit for that black eye she gave Negan,” Dwight says and wraps his arm back around Carl. Everyone excerpt Negan laughs, even Carl.

“Yeah, good thing that professor broke the fight up, or Negan would have gotten beat even worse by the loser—” Simon says and then looks at Carl. “Sorry, it slipped,” he says and gives him an apologetic smile.

A professor? Their wrestling match wasn’t broken up by a professor—it was broken up by their adoptive dad. Either Enid lied or wait, he wonders if these guys even know Negan and Enid are adoptive siblings. He looks at Negan, who now looks worried. He lied to them. Carl should call him out on it right now in front of everyone.

But he can’t. He’s not like him. He finds it harder to hurt people than he does.

Except Lydia, his subconscious reminds him.

“Well, I think the bonfire will be fun,” Carl says.

Dwight looks at him with interest. “Maybe I will make an appearance after all.”

“I’m fucking going,” Negan adds randomly from the other booth.

Everyone turns to look at him, and Sherry laughs. “Yeah, sure you are.” She rolls her eyes and laughs again.

“No, really, it won’t be so bad,” Negan softly insists, earning another eye-rolling from Sherry.

Negan going because Dwight said he was? Maybe Carl’s a better flirt than he thought.

The server brings out their food and hands him his burger. It looks great, except for the pickles hanging off the side. His nose scrunches up and he opens up his burger to wipe some them off with napkin. Ugh, now it will the pickle taste. He hates sending food back, and he’s already having a hard enough time tonight. The last thing he needs is to draw even more attention to himself.

Talk of the party tonight circles the booths while everyone digs into their wings and he picks at his fries. Eventually the server stops back and asks if they need anything else.

“No, I think we’re good,” Noah starts to say, and she begins to walk away.

“Wait. He ordered his burger with no pickles,” Negan says loudly, and Carl drops a fry onto the plate.

The waitress looks at Carl with concern. “I’m sorry about that. Do you want me to take it back?”

Carl is so embarrassed, all he can do is shake his head.

“Yeah. He does,” Negan answers for him.

What the hell is he doing? And how did he even know it had pickles? He is just trying to make him uncomfortable.

“Here, babe, give me your plate.” She smiles and holds her hand out. “I’ll bring you a new one.” Carl hands it to her and look downs while he thank hers.

“What was that?” He hears Sherry ask Negan. She should really work on her whispering voice.

“Nothing, he doesn’t like pickles,” he simply says and she huffs before taking a drink of her beer.

“So?” Sherry says and Negan glares at her.

“Fucking hell, nothing. Just fucking drop it.”

At least he knows he isn't the only one Negan is rude to.

His new food sans pickles arrives, and he eats most of it despite his lack of appetite. Dwight ends up paying for Carl’s meal, which is both nice and awkward at the same time. Negan’s annoyance seems to grow as Dwight puts his arm around him yet again on the walk outside.

“Tara says the party is already packed!” Simon says, reading a text.

“You should ride with me there,” Dwight offers, then frowns when Carl shakes his head.

“Oh, I’m not going to the party. Noah is going to take me back.”

“I can take him back to his room since I drove,” Negan says loudly.

Carl almost trips over his feet at this, but fortunately Beth grabs hold of him and smiles at Negan. “No, Noah and I will take him. Dwight can ride with us, too.”

If looks could kill, Beth would be collapsing on the floor right now.

Negan turns to Noah. “You don’t want to drive drunk on campus; the police are going to be looking for people to give tickets to because it’s Friday.”

Beth looks at Carl, waiting for him to speak up, but he doesn't know what to say. He doesn't want to be in the car with Negan alone, but he doesn't want to drive with Noah when he has been drinking. He shrugs and leans into Dwight while they settle this among themselves.

“Great, let’s drop him off and then go have some fun,” Sherry tells Negan, but he shakes his head.

“No, you ride with Beth and Noah,” he says forcefully and Sherry shrinks.

“For God’s sake can we just get in the cars and go!” Simon whines and pulls his keys out.

“Yeah, let’s go, Carl,” Negan says and Carl looks up at Dwight and then at Noah.

“Carl!” Negan calls again as he unlocks his car door. He looks back at Carl and he gets the feeling that if he doesn't follow Negan will drag him to the car. But why would he even want to be around Carl if he told Noah that he better not come around? Negan disappears inside the car and starts the engine.

“It’ll be okay, just text me as soon as you get back to the room,” Noah says, and Carl nods and walks to Negan’s car. His curiosity gets the best of him, and he has to know what his intentions are. He just has to.

~O~

No matter how hard Carl tried to avoid seeing Negan all week, he somehow ends up in his car with him. Negan doesn’t look at him as Carl gets in or while he buckles his seatbelt. He tugs at the shirt again, trying to pull it distract himself. They sit in silence for a moment and then Negan pulls out of the parking lot. One saving grace is his not allowing Sherry to ride with them—he would have rather walked home than watch her fawn all over him.

“What’s with the new look?” Negan finally asks once they're on the freeway.

“Beth wanted to try something new with me, I guess.” He keeps his eyes fixed on the buildings passing by outside the window. Negan’s usual aggressive music is playing quietly through the car.

“It’s a little over-the-top, don’t you think?” he asks and Carl balls his fists on his lap. So this is his plan today, to insult Carl the whole way back to his room.

“You didn’t have to drive me home, you know.” He leans his head against the window, trying to create as much space between them as possible.

“Don’t get so defensive; all I am saying is your little makeover is a little extreme.”

“Well, good thing I don’t care what you think, but considering your distaste for my usual appearance, I’m surprised you don’t think I look better like this,” Carl snaps and closes his eyes. He’s already exhausted from being around him and he is sucking the little bit of energy that remained from Carl.

  
Carl hears him chuckle quietly and he turns the radio off completely. “I never said there was anything wrong with your appearance. Your clothes, yes, but I’d much rather see the hideous jeans than these clothes.”

He’s trying to explain but his answer doesn’t really make sense. He seems to like when Sherry dresses a certain way, only much skankier, so why not him?

“Did you hear me, Carl?” he asks when Carl doesn't respond, and he feel Negan’s hand touch his thigh. He jerks away from his touch and opens his eyes.

“Yes, I did. I just don’t have anything to say about it. If you don’t like the way I’m dressed, then don’t look at me.” One good thing that comes from talking to Negan is that for once in his life Carl can say exactly what comes to his mind without worrying about hurting Negan’s feelings, seeing as how he has none.

“That is precisely the problem here, isn’t it? I can’t stop looking at you.” The words leave his mouth and Carl considers opening the car door and hurling himself onto the freeway.

“Just stop, please!” Carl laughs. He knows Negan will say just enough nice, yet cryptic, things to make it more painful when he takes them back and throws more insults at him later.

“What? It’s true. Most people would kill to look like you and fucking trust me - no one looks as good as you.”

What? He must have forgotten that they aren’t speaking, that he tried to ruin Carl’s life less than a week ago, and that they despise each other.

“You don’t expect a thank you, do you?” Carl half-laughs. Negan is so confusing; he is brooding and angry one minute and telling him he can’t stop looking at him the next.

“Why didn’t you tell them the truth about Enid and me?” Negan asks, changing the subject.

“Because you obviously didn’t want them to know.”

“Still, why would you keep my secrets?”

“Because they are not mine to tell.”

He looks over to Carl with hooded eyes and a slight smile. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did, considering what I did with Lydia.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not you.”

“No, no you’re not,” he says, his voice much quieter. And after that he remains silent for the rest of the drive, as does Carl. He has nothing to say to him.

They finally pull onto campus and Negan parks in the farthest possible spot from his room. Of course.

Carl reaches for the door handle and Negan’s hand touches his thigh again. “You’re not going to thank me?” He smiles and Carl shakes his head.

“Thanks for the ride,” he says sarcastically. “Hurry back—Sherry’s waiting,” he adds as he climb out. He hopes he didn’t hear him; he’s not sure why he even said that.

“Yeah I better. She sure is fun when she’s drunk,” he says with a smirk.

Trying to hide the fact that he feels like he just punched him in the stomach, Carl leans down to look at him through the passenger window and Negan rolls it down. “Yeah, I’m sure she is. Lydia’s coming soon, anyway,” he lies and watches Negan’s eyes narrow.

“She is?” Negan picks at his fingernails, a nervous habit, Carl assumes.

“Yep, see you around.” He smiles and walks off.

He hears Negan get out of his car and shuts the door. “Wait!” he says and Carl turns around. “Fucking hell, never mind, I thought you, um, dropped something but you didn’t.” His cheeks flush. He’s clearly lying, and Carl wants to know what he was going to say, but he needs to walk away now, so he does just that.

“Ta ta, Negan.” The words mean more than Carl lets on. He doesn't look back to see if Negan is coming after him because he knows that Negan isn’t.

  
Of course.

~O~

He takes of his boots before he even gets to his room and walks with his socks on the rest of the way through campus. The second he gets into the room he puts his Spider-Man pajamas and calls Lydia. She answers on the second ring.

“Hey,” Carl whispers. His voice sounds too high-pitched. It’s only Lydia, why is he so nervous?

“Hey, Carl, how was your day today?” She asks softly. She doesn’t sound like the same distant Lydia that he’s gotten all week. He sighs in relief.

“It was okay, actually, I’m just hanging out in my room tonight. What are you doing?” He purposely leaves out his dinner with Noah and everyone, including Negan. That will not help his “please forgive me” campaign.

“I just got out of class. I’m thinking I’ll study tonight because I’m helping the new neighbors plant a tree tomorrow.”

She is always helping everyone. She is too good for him.

“I’m just studying tonight, too.”

“I wish we could study together,” she says, and Carl smiles while picking at the tiny lint balls on his fuzzy socks.

“You do?”

“Yeah, of course, Carl. I still love you and I miss you. But I have to know that nothing like this will ever happen again. I’m willing to try to put this past us, but you have to promise me you will stay away from him,” she says. She doesn’t have to say his name.

“Of course I will, I swear—I love you!” Part of him knows that he’s desperate to have Lydia forgive him only because he doesn't want to be completely alone and fawning over Negan, but he ignores it.

After exchanging more “I love you’s” with Lydia, she agrees to accompany him to the bonfire next weekend and they get off the phone. He looks online for the closest car dealerships to campus, and lucky for him there appears to be a good number of used-car lots ready to rip off college students. After noting the addresses of a few, he plans to focus on something else, rather than on someone else.

~O~

He takes out his notes and textbooks and dive into his studies. He’s working on next week’s assignments. He likes to stay ahead one week at least so there is no chance he fall behind. But his thoughts drift to Negan and his moodiness, so he’s not really paying attention to the essay he’s supposed to be writing. It has been only two hours since he got off the phone with Lydia, but it seems like four.

He decides to find a movie and lies in bed until he falls asleep, settling on The Vow despite the fact that he has seen it numerous times, thanks to Lydia. Less than ten minutes into the movie he hears someone cursing outside in the hall. He turns the volume up on his laptop and ignores the cursing; it’s Friday, which means drunk people all over the dorms tonight. A few minutes later, he hears the cursing again—a male voice, then a female voice joins in. The guy shouts louder, and then he recognizes the voice. It’s Negan.

He jumps off his bed and swings open the door to find him sitting on the floor with his back against the wall outside his room. An angry girl with bleach-blond hair is standing over him, scowling with her hands on her hips.

“Negan?” Carl says, and Negan looks up.

A huge grins slides over his face. “Car…” he says and begins to stand.

“Can you please tell your boyfriend to get away from my door—he spilled vodka all over the floor!” the girl yells.

Carl looks at Negan. “He’s not my-” he starts to say, but Negan grabs his hand and pulls him toward Carl’s door.

“Sorry for the spill,” Negan says and rolls his eyes at the blonde. She huffs and storms into her room, slamming her door.

“What are you doing here, Negan?” Carl asks him. He tries to walk past him and into his room but Carl blocks the entrance.

“Why can’t I come in, Carl? I’ll be nice to your grandma.” He laughs and Carl rolls his eyes. He knows he is making fun of Lydia.

“She isn’t here.”

“Why not? Okay, so let me in then,” he says, slurring his words.

“No, are you drunk?” His eyes scan Negan’s face. His eyes are red, and his smirk gives it all away. He takes his lip between his teeth and puts his hands into his pockets.

“I thought you didn’t drink often, but now you have been drinking a lot.”

“It’s only been twice. Chill out,” Negan says, and pushes past him and flops down on Carl’s bed. “So why didn’t Lydia come?”

“I don’t know,” he lies.

He nods several times, like he’s considering this seriously. “Sure. My little pony probably had a sale on dolls, so she canceled on you.” He bursts out laughing, and the energy in the room is such that Carl can’t help but join him.

“So where is Sherry?” Carl asks. “At a ‘I’ll spread my legs out for free’ meeting ?”

Negan stops for a second and then laughs harder. “That was a terrible attempt at a comeback, Carlton,” he jokes, and Carl kicks his foot at where Negan’s shins dangle over the bed.

“Either way, you can’t stay here. Lydia and I are back together, officially.”

Carl notices Negan's smile fade and he rubs his hands against his knees. “Nice socks,” Negan says, and Carl looks down.

Why is he being so cavalier? They haven’t resolved anything, and the last time he checked they were both staying away from each other.

“Negan, you have to go.”

“Let me guess: one of Lydia’s conditions for reconciliation was that you have to stay away from me?” His tone is more serious now.

“Yeah, and the last time I checked you and I weren’t friends or even speaking. So, why did you drop Media and why did you wrestle Enid?”

“Why do you always ask so many questions?” he whines. “I don’t want to talk about any of that! What were you and your cool pajamas doing before I came in—and why is your light off?” Negan is much more playful when he has been drinking but Carl’s beginning to wonder why he’s begun drinking when he didn’t really do it before.

“I was watching a movie,” Carl tells him; maybe if he’s nice to him he will answer some of his questions.

“What movie?”

“The Vow,” Carl answers and looks at him. He expects Negan to laugh at him and after a few seconds he does.

“You would like that sappy movie. That is so unrealistic.”

“It’s based on a true story,” Carl corrects him.

“It still seems fucking stupid.”

“Have you even seen it?” Carl asks him, and Negan shakes his head.

“I don’t have to see it to know it’s stupid. I can tell you how it ends right now: she gets her memory back and they live happily ever after,” he says in a high-pitched voice.

“No, actually that isn’t how it ends,” Carl laughs. Negan makes him insane most of the time, but it’s the rare occasions like this when he makes Carl forget how terrible he can be. He forgets that he’s supposed to hate him and instead find himself tossing one of Noah’s pillows at him. Negan lets it hit him, even though he could easily block it, and then yelps as if he is actually wounded, so they both laugh again.

“Let me stay and watch it with you,” he half-asks, half-demands.

“I don’t think that is a good idea,” Carl says and Negan shrugs.

“The worst ideas are often the best ideas. Besides, you wouldn’t want me to drive back drunk, would you?” He smiles, and Carl can’t resist even though he should.

“Fine, but you are sitting on the floor or Noah's bed.”

He pouts but Carl holds his ground. God knows what will happen if they are both on his small bed. He flushes at the possibilities and then scolds himself for thinking that way when he just promised Lydia that he would stay away from Negan. It sounds like such a simple promise to make, but somehow he always finds his way to Negan. Or, like tonight, Negan finds his way to Carl.

Negan slides down to the floor and Carl takes a moment to admire how hot he looks in a plain white T-shirt. His jet black hair, that's normal straight and gelled back, is now slightly curly and messy. Carl loves it and fights the urge to lean over to smooth it back out again. He sighs, this is going to be an interesting night.

Carl presses play and immediately Negan asks, “Got any popcorn?”

“No, you should have brought your own,” he teases and turns the screen so he can see it better from the floor.

“I could always go for another type of snack,” Negan says and Carl smacks his head lightheartedly.

“Watch the movie, and no more talking, or I’ll kick you out.”

Negan pretends to zip his lips and hands Carl a key, which makes Carl giggle as he pretends to toss it behind him. As Negan lays his head back against the bed, Carl feels more calm and at peace than he has all week.

Negan watches him more than the movie, but he doesn't care. Carl notices the way Negan smiles when Carl laughs at a funny line, the way he frowns when Carl becomes sad over Paige losing her memory, and the way Negan too sighs with relief when Paige and Leo end up together again in the end.

“So what did you think?” Carl asks him as he scrolls through to find another movie.

“Fucking garbage.” But he smiles, and Carl ruffles his hand through Negan’s hair before he realizes what he’s doing. Carl sits himself up and Negan turns toward the wall.

Way to make it awkward, Carl.

“Let me choose the next movie,” Negan says and reaches for Carl’s laptop.

“Who said you could stay for another?” He asks and Negan rolls his eyes.

“Can’t drive. Still drunk,” he says with a mischievous grin.

Carl knows he is lying. He’s mostly sobered up, but he’s right. He should stay. He will deal with whatever Negan decides to do to him tomorrow, just to be able to spend time with him. He really is pathetic, just like Negan said. And at the moment, he doesn't care.

He wants to ask Negan why he came here and why he isn’t at his own frat party, but he decides to wait until the movie is over because he knows he will turn sour once Carl begins to question him. Negan chooses some James Bond film that Carl hasn't seen and swears it is the best movie of all time.

Carl laughs at his enthusiasm as Negan tries to explain the previous movies in the trilogy, but Carl has no idea what he is talking about. Lydia and him always watch movies together, but Carl has never enjoyed it as much as he does with Negan. Lydia stares at the screen in silence, whereas Negan banters along, adding hilarious sarcastic entertainment. He's so comical with his eyebrows and lips.

  
“My ass is numb from your hard floor,” Negan complains as soon as the movie begins.

“Noah’s bed is nice and soft,” Carl says, and Negan frowns.

“I won’t be able to see the screen from over there. Come on, Carl, I will keep my hands to myself.”

“Fine,” he groans and scoots over.

Negan smiles and lies next to Carl on his stomach mimicking him, bending his knees and putting his feet in the air. Negan lays his head on his folded hands, which takes away all his rough edges and leaves him looking adorable. The movie is much better than Carl expected, and he’s must’ve been more into it than Negan, because when the credits roll and Carl looks over at him, he’s fast asleep.

He looks so perfect, so peaceful in his sleep. Carl loves the way his eyelids flutter and the way his chest moves up and down and the lovely sigh that leaves his full lips. Carl wants to reach over and touch his face, but he doesn't. Despite the fact that he should wake him and make him leave, Carl covers him with his blanket and goes lock the door before lying down on Noah’s bed. He glances over at him again and admire the way the dim light from the television illuminates his face. He looks younger and much happier in his sleep.

As Carl drifts to sleep, he realizes that he’s spent the night with Negan a couple of times now, and never with Lydia. His subconscious helpfully reminds him that he’s done a lot of things with Negan that he’s never done with Lydia.

~O~

The faint sound of buzzing floats through Carl’s dream in a steady pattern. Why won’t it stop? He rolls over, not wanting to wake up, but the obnoxious sound insists that he does. He’s disoriented, and forgets where he is. And then when he realizes he’s in Noah's bed, he still almost forgets Negan is in his room.

How do they always end up together? And more important, where is that annoying noise coming from? In the dim light provided by streetlights just outside the window, he follows the noise and it leads to Negan’s pocket. He feels as if the noise is calling to him in his dreamy state. He debates whether or not to reach into Negan’s pocket, his eyes focused on the imprint of the phone in the front pocket of his tight jeans. It stops as he reaches his bed so he steals another opportunity to take in how peaceful Negan looks in his sleep. There is no soft crinkle in his forehead from his constant frowning, and there is no purse to his pink lips. He sighs and turns around only to have the buzzing start again. He’s just going to grab it, he won’t wake up. Carl dips his hand down and struggles to reach into Negan’s pocket. If his pants weren’t so tight, he would be able to pull the phone from his pocket but he has no such luck.

“What are you doing?” Negan groans.

Carl jolts a few feet away from his bed. “Your phone is going off and it woke me up,” he whispers, despite the fact that they are the only people in the room.

He watches silently as Negan digs into his pocket, his large hand struggling to pull out his phone. “What the fuck do you want, fuck?” He snaps into the mouthpiece when he does get it out, only to swipe his hand over his forehead at whatever response he received.

“I’m not coming back there tonight. I’m at a friend’s house.”

Are they friends? Of course not, it’s just a convenient excuse for why he isn’t returning to the party. Carl stands awkwardly and shifts his weight from one leg to the other.

“No, you can’t go into my damn room. You fucking know this. I’m going back to sleep now, so don’t dare wake me up again. And my fucking door is locked, so don’t waste your time trying.” He hangs up, and Carl instinctively backs away. His bad mood is palpable, and he doesn't m want to be on the receiving end of his venom. Carl crawls onto Noah’s bed and pull the blanket to him.

“Sorry that my phone woke you,” he says quietly. “It was Sherry.”

“Oh.” He sighs and lies down on his side, facing his bed across the room. Negan gives him a small smile, as if he knows what he's thinking about Sherry. He can’t ignore the small bubble of excitement that comes from him being here instead of with Sherry, even though his actions make no sense to him.

“You don’t like her, do you?” He rolls fully onto his side, his hair messy and everywhere on Carl’s pillow.

Carl shakes his head. “Not really, but please don’t tell her. I don’t want any drama,” he begs. He knows he can’t trust him, but hopefully he will forget to stir up controversy with this information.

“I won’t. I don’t care for her, either,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, you really seem to dislike her,” Carl says just as sarcastically as he can manage.

“I don’t. I mean, she is fun and all, but she is quite annoying,” he admits, making that bubble grow a little more.

“Well, maybe you should stop messing around with her,” he suggests and roll onto his back so Negan can’t see his face.

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t mess around with her?”

“No. I mean, if you think she is annoying, then why keep doing it?” He knows he doesn't want the answer to this, but can’t help it.

“To keep me occupied, I guess.”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Talking about Negan messing around with Sherry hurts him worse than it should.

His smooth voice interrupts his jealous thoughts. “Come lie with me.”

“No.”

“Come on, just lie with me. I sleep better when you’re near me,” he says like it’s a confession.

Carl sits up and look at him. “What?” He can’t hide his surprise at his words. Whether he means them or not, they make Carl’s insides melt.

“I sleep better when you’re with me.” Negan breaks eye contact and looks down. “Last weekend I slept better than I have in a while.”

“It was probably the scotch, not me.” Carl tries to make light of his confession. He doesn't know what else to do or say.

“No, it was you.”

“Good night, Negan.” He turns over. If he keeps saying these things and Carl will keep listening, he will be putty in his hands yet again.

“Why don’t you believe me?” he almost whispers.

“Because you always do this: you say a few nice things and then you flip the switch and I end up crying.”

“I make you cry?”

How doesn’t he know that? He has seen Carl cry more than anyone else he knows.

“Yeah, often,” he says, gripping Noah’s blanket tight.

Carl hears his bed squeak lightly and he close his eyes, out of fear, out of something else, too. Negan’s fingers graze his arm as he sits on the edge of Noah’s bed, and Carl tells himself it’s too late—well, early—for this at 4 a.m.

“I don’t mean to make you cry.”

Carl opens his eyes and looks up at him. “Yes. Yes, you do. That’s your exact intention every time you say hurtful things to me. And when you forced me to tell Lydia about us. And when you humiliated me in your bed last week because I couldn’t say exactly what you wanted me to. Tonight you tell me you sleep better when I'm around, but if I was to lie with you, the second we woke up you would just tell me I'm ugly, or that you can’t stand me. After we went to the stream, I thought that - never mind. There are only so many times I can have this talk with you.” He takes in a couple of deep breaths, panicked at his unloading on him.

“I’m listening this time.” Negan's eyes are unreadable, but they make Carl want to continue.

“I just don’t know why you love this cat-and-mouse game you play with me so much. You’re nice, then mean. You tell Noah you’ll ‘ruin’ me if I come around you, then you want to drive me home. You are just all over the place.”

“I didn’t mean that. That I would ruin you, I just, fuming hell, don’t know. I just say things sometimes,” he says, running his hands through his hair.

“Why did you drop Media?” He finally asks.

“Because you want me to stay away from you, and I need to stay away from you.”

“So why don’t you, then?” Carl’s slightly aware of the shift in energy around them. Somehow they have moved closer, their bodies only inches apart.

“I don’t know,” he huffs. He rubs his hands together, then rests them on his knees.

Carl wants to say something—anything—but he can’t without telling Negan that he doesn't want him to stay away, that he thinks about him every second of every day.

Finally, he breaks the silence. “Can I ask you something and you will be completely honest?”

Carl nods.

“Did you, fuck, did you miss me this week?”

That was the last thing Carl expected Negan to ask him. He blinks a few times to clear his frantic mind. He’s told him he would answer truthfully, but he’s afraid to.

“Well?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles and hides his face in his hands, only to have Negan pull them away, his touch on Carl’s wrists setting fire to his skin.

“Yeah, what?” His voice is strained, like he is desperate for Carl’s answer.

“I missed you,” he gulps, expecting the worst.

What he did not expect is Negan’s sigh of relief, and the smile that stretches across his beautiful face. Carl wants to ask him if he missed him, but he begins to speak before he gets the chance.

“Really?” he asks, almost like he doesn’t believe me.

Carl nods in reply and Negan gives him a shy smile. Negan shy? More likely he’s pleased by his admittance because it tells him he has Carl wrapped around his finger.

“Now can I go back to sleep?” He whines. He knows Negan isn’t going to reciprocate his confession with one of his own, and it is really late.

“Only if you sleep with me. As in, in the same bed, of course.” He smiles.

Carl sighs and mumbles, “Oh, Negan, can we just go to sleep?” as he rolls over, careful not to touch him. But a sudden yank on his legs makes him yelp in surprise, and Carl quickly finds Negan lifting him off the bed and throwing Carl over his shoulder. He ignores his kicking and pleas to put him down until he reaches Carl’s bed, rests one knee on it, and lays Carl down gently on the side against the wall before lying down next to him. Carl glares at him silently, afraid that if he fight him too hard he’ll leave, which he knows he doesn't want.

  
He reaches down and picks up the pillow that Carl tossed at him earlier and places it between them as a barrier with a smirk on his face. “There, now you can sleep, safe and secure.”

Carl smiles back at him. He can’t help it. “Good night,” He half-giggles.

“Night, Carl.” Negan laughs back and Carl rolls over on his side.

But suddenly he’s not anywhere near tired, so he just stare at the wall, hoping this electricity will dissipate and he can sleep. Well, half-hoping.

A few minutes later Carl feels the pillow move and then Negan’s arm wraps around his waist and he pulls Carl to his chest. He doesn't move it or call attention to his actions. He’s enjoying the feeling too much.

“I missed you, too,” Negan whispers against Carl’s hair. He smiles knowing that Negan can’t see him. He feels the light pressure of his lips against the back of his head and Carl’s stomach flips. As much as he loves it, he’s left more confused than ever as he drifts off to sleep.

~O~

Carl’s alarm goes off too early and he rolls over. He lifts his hand, smacking at it to stop the hideous beeping assaulting his ears. His hand smacks against a soft, warm surface, and he blink his eyes open to find Negan staring down at him. Carl reaches for his pillow to cover his embarrassment but Negan yanks it away.

“Good morning to you, too,” Negan says with a smile, rubbing at his arm.

Carl stares back, working an apology in his mind. How long has Negan been watching him?

“You’re cute when you’re asleep,” Negan teases and Carl sits up as quick as he can, sure he looks fairly hideous, like usual in the morning.

Negan hands him his phone. “What’s the alarm for?”

Carl switches it off and climbs off the bed. “I’m going to look for a car today, so you can leave whenever,” he tells him and Negan frowns.

“You’re obviously not a morning person.”

Carl shakes his head but to his hair from getting into his eyes. “I just don’t want to keep you.” He feels a little guilty for being rude, but Carl has expected Negan to be rude himself, to be honest.

“You’re not. Can I come with you?”

Carl searches around his room, wondering if he heard Negan correctly. Finally Carl turns to him with suspicion in his eyes. “To look at a car? Why would you want to do that?”

“Why do I have to have a reason? You act like I’m plotting to bash your head in or something.” Negan laughs and stands up, ruffling his hair.

“Well, I’m just a little taken aback by your cheerful mood this morning and you wanting to go somewhere with me - and you not insulting me,” Carl admits.

He turns away from Negan and gathers his clothes and bathroom stuff. He needs to take a shower before he goes anywhere.

Unfazed by his honesty, Negan presses some more. “It’ll be fun, I promise. Just let me show you that we could - that I could be nice. It’s just one day.”

Negan’s smile is beautiful and convincing. But Lydia will surely break up with him and never speak to Carl again if she knows that Negan stayed the night with him, in his bed, holding him as they slept.

He doesn’t know what it is that keeps him constantly afraid of losing Lydia; maybe it’s his fear of his father’s reaction if they broke up, or maybe that his old self is so tied to Lydia. She has always been there for him, and he feels like he owe it to himself and her to continue their relationship.

But Carl thinks the biggest reason is that he knows Negan can’t and won’t give him the type of relationship he needs and honestly want from Negan.

While Carl’s lost in his thoughts it finally seems okay for him to admit that listening to Negan’s steady breathing in his ear while Negan slept was worth never speaking to Lydia again.

“Earth to Carl!” Negan calls from across the room and Carl snaps to. He has been frozen standing here debating with himself and completely forgot Negan was even in his room.

“Is something wrong?” Negan asks and steps towards him.

Oh, nothing, just that Carl is finally admitting to himself that he has feelings for him and wants more from him, yet know Negan will never care about anyone, especially him.

“Just trying to figure out what to wear,” He lies.

His eyes move down to the clothes in Carl’s hands, and he tilts his head but only says, “So, can I come? It will be easier for you, anyway—so you don’t have to take the bus.”

Well, it might be fun. And it would be easier. “Yeah, okay,” Carl says. “Just let me get ready.” He walks toward the door and he follows him.

“What are you doing?” Carl asks him.

“Coming with you.”

“Um, I’m going to take a shower.” He dangles his toiletry bag in front of Negan and he snatches it from him.

“What a fucking coincidence—me, too!”

Carl sighs, he doesn't want to take a shower with him hovering close by. Negan walks past him and opens the door without looking back. Carl rushes to catch up with him and grabs hold of his shirt.

“Nice of you to join me,” he jokes and Carl rolls his eyes.

“We haven’t even begun the day and you’re already annoying me,” Carl teases back.

A group of girls walks by them and into the bathrooms; they don’t even try to be subtle about staring at Negan.

“Damn ladies,” Negan greets them with a wink, and they giggle like schoolgirls. Well, technically they are schoolgirls, but they are also adults, so they should act like it.

~O~

After a stop to use the toilet, Carl comes out and don’t see or hear Negan in the showers, so his mind of course starts worrying that he went off somewhere with those girls. Negan didn’t even bring any clothes with him, so if he does shower, he would just be putting on dirty clothes. Negan could wear clothes matted with mud and still look better than any guy Carl has ever seen.

After a quick shower, he dries off and puts his clothes on and makes his way back his room, where he’s relieved to find Negan sitting on his bed. Take that, schoolgirls, part of him yells. Negan is shirtless and the water has made his jet black hair blacker. Carl closes his mouth to make sure his tongue isn’t hanging out.

“Took you long enough,” he says and leans back. His muscles constrict as he lifts his arms behind his head to brace him against the wall.

“You’re supposed to be nice to me, remember,” Carl says and walks over to his closet and opens the door to use the mirror.

“This is me being nice.”

Carl stays quiet as fixes his hair little. After three attempts of trying to keep the strands from entering his eye, he chucks the comb at the mirror and Negan laughs.

“You look fine, anyways,” Negan says.

“Not everyone is born with straight combed back hair,” Carl says, and Negan rolls his eyes.

“Fine, we can just sit here all day while you try to fix something that doesn't need fixing,” he says. So much for nice Negan.

He catches himself and gives Carl a quick, “Fucking hell, sorry,” while Carl ranks his hand through his hair. But he gives up and brushes it back. It’s a little hard to do with someone like Negan watching him.

“I’m ready,” Carl tells him and Negan jumps up. “Are you going to put a shirt on?” He asks him.

“Yeah, I have one in my trunk.”

Carl was right: he must have an endless supply in there. He doesn't want to think about the reasons behind that.

~O~

True to his word, Negan pulls a plain black T-shirt out of his trunk and finishes getting dressed in the parking lot.

“Stop staring and get in the car,” he teases Carl. He stutters a denial and obliges.

“I like you in the white shirts,” Carl says when their both inside, the words just popping out before he can process them.

Cocking his head sideways, Negan gives him a smug grin. “Is that so?” He raises his eyebrow. “Well, I like you in those jeans. They show off your ass wonderfully,” he says and Carl’s mouth drops. Negan and his dirty words.

He swats at him playfully and Negan laughs, but he mentally pats himself on the back for wearing these pants. He wants Negan to look at him even though he would never admit it, and he’s flattered by Negan’s strange way of complimenting him.

“So where to?” he asks, and Carl pulls out his phone. He reads him the list of used-car dealers within a five-mile radius and tells him about a few of the reviews on each.

“You plan things way too much. We aren’t going to any of those places.”

“Yes, we are. I already have this planned; there is a honda that I want to see at Bob’s Super Cars,” Carl tells him and cringes at the cheesy name.

“A Honda?” he says in disgust.

“Yeah? They have the best gas mileage and they are safe and—”

“Boring. I knew somehow you would want a Honda. You just scream, ‘Guy with a planner in his Honda!’ ” he says mocking Carl’s voice and then cackles.

“Tease me all you want but I will save hundreds on gas every year,” Carl reminds him, laughing, when Negan leans over and pokes his cheek. Carl looks over at him, shocked by his doing such a small but adorable thing; Negan looks as surprised at what he did as Carl does.

“You’re cute sometimes,” Negan tells him.

Carl looks forward again. “Gee, thanks.”

“I mean that in a nice way, like sometimes you do cute things,” he mutters. The words seem uncomfortable on his tongue and Carl knows he isn’t used to saying things like this.

“Okay.” Carl says and looks out the side window.

Every second he spends with Negan increases his feelings for him, and he knows it’s dangerous for him to allow these small, seemingly meaningless moments to occur, but he doesn’t have control of himself when Negan is involved. He becomes merely a passerby in this storm.

  
~O~

Negan ends up driving to Bob’s, and Carl thanks him. Bob ends up being a short, sweaty, and overgelled man who smells like nicotine and leather and whose smile is punctuated with a gold tooth. While he talks to Carl, Negan stands nearby, making faces when he isn’t looking. The little man seems to be intimidated by Negan’s appearance, but Carl doesn't blame him. He takes one look at the condition of the used Honda and decides against it. He has a feeling the moment he drove off the lot it would have broken down, and Bob has a strict no-return policy.

They visit a few more lots and they are all equally as trashy. After a morning of countless balding men, Carl decides to suspend his search for a car. He will have to go farther away from campus for a decent car and he doesn't don’t feel like it today. They decide to get some lunch at a drive-through, and while they eat in the car Negan surprisingly tells him a story about when Dwight got arrested for puking all over the floor of a Wendy’s last year. The day is going better than Carl could have imagined, and for once he feels like they could both make it through this semester without killing each other.

On their way back to campus, they pass a cute little frozen yogurt bar and Carl begs Negan to stop. Negan groans and acts like he doesn’t want to, but Carl sees the hint of a smile hiding behind his sour features. Negan tells me to find a spot and he goes and gets their yogurts for them, piling on every candy and cookie imaginable. It looks disgusting, but Negan convinces him it’s the only way to get your money’s worth. As gross as it looks, it’s delicious. Carl can’t even finish half of mine, but Negan happily clears his cup and the remainder of Carl’s.

“Negan?” a man’s voice says.

Negan’s head snaps up and his eyes narrow. Was that an deep Southern accent Carl heard? The stranger is holding a bag and a drink carrier full of yogurt cups.

“Oh…hey,” Negan says, and Carl knows instinctively that this is Negan’s adoptive father. The man is tall and lean, older in age, and his eyes are deep green. He is wearing gray dress pants and a sweater vest. His hair is gray-brown scattered on its sides, bald on top and his demeanor is coldly professional. Until he smiles, that is, and shows a warmth similar to Negan’s, when he isn’t putting so much effort into being a jerk.

“Hi, I’m Carl,” he politely says and reaches his hand out. Negan glares at him but Carl ignores him. It’s not like Negan was going to introduce him.

“Hello, Carl. I’m Hershel, Negan’s father,” he says and shakes Carl’s hand. “Negan, you never told me you had a boyfriend?—you two should come over for dinner tonight. Charlotte will make a nice meal for everyone. She’s an excellent cook.”

Carl wants to keep Negan’s anger in check and tell Negan’s father that he’s not his boyfriend, but Negan speaks first.

“We can’t tonight. I have a party to go to and he doesn’t want to come,” he snaps. A gasp escapes Carl’s lips at the way Negan speaks to his adoptive father. Hershel’s face drops and Carl feels terrible for him.

“Actually, I would love to. I’m also a friend of Enid; we have classes together,” Carl interjects, and Hershel’s friendly smile reappears.

“You are? Well, that is great. Enid is my lovely little girl. I would be happy to have you over tonight,” Hershel says and Carl smiles.

He feel Negan’s eyes blazing at him as he asks, “What time should we be there?”

“ ‘We’?” his adoptive father asks and Carl nods. “Okay, let’s do seven. I need to give Charlotte a bit of a warning or she will have my head,” he jokes and Carl smiles. Negan stares angrily out the glass wall.

“Sounds great! We’ll see you tonight!”

Hershel says goodbye to Negan, who rudely ignores him despite Carl kicking his foot under the table. A minute after his dad leaves the store, Negan stands abruptly and slams his chair into the table. It topples over and he kicks it partway across the room before rushing out the door and leaving Carl alone to deal with everyone’s stares. Not sure what to do, Carl leaves his yogurt where it is, stammers an apology under his breath, and clumsily uprights the chair before running out after him.

 

 


	7. SEVEN

  
Carl calls out Negan’s name, but he ignores him. When he gets halfway to the car, he spins around so quickly that Carl almost crashes into him.

“What the hell, Carl! What the fuck was that?” he screams at him. People walking by start to stare, but he continues. “What kind of game are you trying to play here?” He moves toward him. Negan is angry—beyond angry.

“There’s no game here, Negan—didn’t you see how much he wanted you to come over? He was trying to reach out to you, and you were so disrespectful!” He’s really not sure why he’s yelling, but he’s not going to just let Negan shout at him.

“Reach out to me? Are you fucking kidding me? Maybe he should have reached out to me back when he was abandoning my family back in South Carolina!” The veins in his neck strain under his skin.

“Stop swearing at me! People make mistakes, Negan, and he obviously cares about you. He has that room for you at his house, full of clothes just in case—”

“You don’t know shit about him, Carl!” he screams and shudders with anger. “He lives in a fucking mansion with his new family while my real mom works her ass off, fifty hours a week to pay her bills! So don’t try to lecture me—mind your own damn business!”

He gets in the car, slamming his door closed. Carl scrambles in, afraid that he might leave him here, Negan’s so mad. So much for their argument-free day.

He’s fuming mad but thankfully silent as they pull onto the main road. If he could keep it this quiet the rest of the ride, he will be happy. But part of him insists that Negan needs to understand that he will not be yelled at; that is one redeeming quality he gives his father credit for. His father showed him exactly how not to be treated by a anyone.

“Fine,” Carl says, feigning calm. “I will mind my own business, but I’m accepting the invitation to dinner tonight whether you go or not.”

Like a wild animal who’s been riled up, he turns in Carl’s direction. “Like hell you are!”

Retaining his fake calm, Carl says, “You have no say in what I do, Negan, and in case you didn’t notice, I was invited. Maybe I should see if Dwight wants to join me?”

“What fuck did you just say!?” The dirt and dust start flying all over as Negan jerks the steering wheel and pulls onto the shoulder of the busy road.

Carl knows he pushed him too far, but he really is just as angry as Negan is by this point and yells, “What the hell is wrong with you? Pulling off the road like this!”

“What the hell is wrong with you is the question! You tell my adoptive dad I will go to his house for dinner, then you have the audacity to mention bringing Dwight? You seriously have some man sized balls on you, fuck!”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, your cool friends don’t know that Enid is your sister and you’re afraid they will find out?” Carl says and laughs at how ridiculous Negan is.

“She is not my sister, for one. And two, you know that isn’t why I don’t want Dwight there.” His voice is much lower now, yet still thick with anger.

But through the chaos in the car, that bubble of hope grows again at Negan’s jealousy. Carl knows Negan’s feelings are more of a competition thing than actual concern over Carl being with him, but it still makes his stomach flutter.

“Well, if you won’t go with me, I will have to invite him.” Carl would never actually do it, but Negan doesn’t know that.

Negan stares straight out onto the street for a few seconds and then sighs, deflating some of the tension. “Carl, I really don’t want to go. I don’t want to sit around with that perfect family. I avoid them for a reason.”

Carl lightens his tone as well. “Well, I don’t want to force you to go if it will hurt you, but I would really like if you could come with me. I’m going either way.”

They went from eating yogurt to screaming at each other and now they are calm again. His head is spinning at least as much as his heart.

“Hurt me?” He sounds incredulous.

“Yeah, if it will bother you that much to be there, I won’t try to make you come,” Carl answers. He knows that he could never make Negan do anything he doesn’t want to do; he has no history of ever being cooperative.

“Why would you care if it hurt me?” His eyes meet mine and Carl tries to look away, but once again he is under his spell.

“Of course I would care; why wouldn’t I?”

“Why would you is the question.”

The look in his eyes is a pleading one, like he wants Carl to say the words, but Carl can’t. Negan will use them against him and then probably never want to hang out with him again. Carl will become the annoying boy who likes him, the kind of people Noah told him about.

“I care about how you feel,” he says and he hopes this answer can be good enough for him.

Interrupting their moment in the car, his phone rings. He pulls it out of his pocket and see it’s Lydia. Without thinking, he hits ignore before he realize what he’s doing.

“Who is it?” Negan is so nosy.

“Lydia.”

“You’re not going to answer?” He looks surprised.

“No, we’re talking.” And ‘I would rather talk to you’, his subconscious adds.

“Oh,” is all Negan says, but his smile is evident.

“So are you going to come with me? It’s been awhile since I’ve had a home-cooked meal, so I’m not passing it up.” Carl smiles; the mood in the car is lighter but tense all the same.

“No. I have plans, anyway,” Negan mutters. Carl doesn't want to know if those plans involve Sherry.

“Oh, okay. Are you going to be mad at me if I go?” It’s sort of strange for him to just go to Negan’s parent’s house, but Enid is his friend, too, and he was invited.

“I’m always mad at you, Carl,” he says, amusement in his eyes when he looks over at him.

Carl laughs. “I’m always mad at you, too,” he tells him and Negan chuckles.

“Can we go back now? If a cop comes along, we’ll get a ticket.”

Negan nods, putting the car into drive and pulling back onto the road. The fight with Negan blew over more quickly than Carl expected. He supposed he’s much more used to constant conflict than he is; he would much rather spend time with him without fighting.

Carl promised himself that he wouldn’t ask but he has to know.“So, what are your plans today?”

“Why are you asking?” He can feel Negan’s eyes on him but he stares out the window.

“I’m just wondering, you said you had plans anyways.”

“We have a party again. That is basically what I do every Friday and Saturday, except last night and last Saturday.”

Carl traces a circle on the window with one finger. “Doesn’t it get old? Just doing the same thing every weekend with the same drunk people?” He hopes that doesn’t offend him.

“Yeah, I guess it does. But we’re in college, and I’m in a fraternity; what else is there to do?”

“I don’t know, it just seems tedious, to clean up everyone’s mess, every weekend especially when you don’t even drink.”

“It is, but I haven’t found anything better to do with my time so—” He stops. Carl knows he is still looking at him, but Carl keep his eyes away from him.

The rest of the drive is quiet. Not awkward, just quiet.

~O~

Walking alone from the lot to his dorm, he’s flustered. His emotions are in overdrive. He just spent the night and most of the afternoon with Negan and they got along, mostly. It was actually fun, a lot of fun. Why can’t he have a great time like that with someone who actually likes him? Like Lydia. He knows he should call her back, but he wants to revel in the way he feels right now.

When he gets back to his room, he’s surprised to see Noah there; he usually stays gone all weekend.

“Where have you been, young man?” Noah teases and shoves a handful of cheese popcorn into his mouth.

Carl laughs and take his shoes off before plopping onto the bed. “I was looking for a car.”

“Find one?” He asks, and Carl dives into telling him about the run-down lots he visited, leaving out Negan’s involvement in the afternoon. After a few minutes, there’s a knock at the door and Noah gets up to answer.

“What are you doing here, Negan?” He says with a frown.

Negan. Carl glances up nervously and Negan walks over to his bed. He has his hands in his pockets and he rocks back on his heels.

“Did I forget something in your car?” Carl asks, and hears Noah gasp. He will have to explain to him later, though he’s not sure how they ended up hanging out, either.

“What? No. Um, well, I thought maybe I could drive you to their house tonight. You know, since you didn’t find a car,” he spits out, not seeming to notice or care that Noah is standing in the room with his jaw practically on the floor. “If not, that’s okay, too. I just thought I would offer.”

Carl sits up and Negan pulls his lip between his teeth. Carl loves when he does that. He’s so surprised by his offer, he almost forget to actually answer him. “Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”

He smiles and Negan smiles back, warm and seemingly relieved. He pulls one hand out of his pocket and sweeps it through his hair before stuffing it back in.

“Okay. I’ll come by about six thirty, so you can get there on time.”

“Thanks again, Negan.”

“Carl,” he says calmly and walks out the door, pulling it shut behind him.

“What the hell was that?!” Noah says.

“I don’t know, actually,” Carl admits. As soon as he thinks Negan could not get more confusing, he does something like this.

“I cannot believe that just happened! I mean, Negan - the way he came in here, like he was nervous or something! And he offered to drive you to his parent's? Wait, why are you going to his parent’s house? And you thought you left something in his car? How do I miss so much! I need details!” He practically shouts and bounds onto the foot of Carl’s bed.

So Carl goes through the whole thing, explaining to him how Negan showed up here last night and they watched a movie and Negan fell asleep, how they went to look at cars today—and how he didn’t mention Negan being there before because he figured that if he insisted Noah help him keep Negan away, it would feel odd to admit he had hung out with Negan. Carl doesn’t say much about Negan’s dad except that he’s going there for dinner, but Noah seems more interested in last night anyway.

“I can’t believe he stayed here—that is a huge deal. Like Negan doesn’t just stay places, ever. And he never lets anyone stay with him. I heard he has nightmares or something, I don’t know. But seriously—what have you done to him? I wish I would have recorded the way he looked when he just came here!” He yells and laughs. “I still don’t think this is a good idea, but you do seem to handle him better than most. Just be careful,” he warns again.

What has Carl done to Negan? Nothing, surely. Negan just isn’t used to being nice, but for some reason he’s being nice to Carl. Maybe it’s a way to beat him at some game, or prove a point that Negan can fake manners? He’s not sure and it hurts his head to trying to figure it out.

He brings up Beth, and Noah takes the conversation from there. He tries to pay attention to his stories from last night’s party: how Sherry ended up shirtless (go figure) and Arat beat Simon in a drunken arm-wrestling match (he swears it was one of those things that are much funnier when you’re there). His thoughts drift back to Negan, of course, and he checks the clock to make sure he has enough time to get ready for tonight. It is four o’clock now, so he should start getting ready at five.

Noah talks until five thirty and is ecstatic when Carl asks him to borrow some shoes. He decides to wear his favorite shirt, black vest, black tie and black pants. He ignores Noah’s attempts to have him wear something from his closet. His clothes are nice and conservative, perfect for a family dinner.

“Okay. It looks nice,” Carl rebuts. It's formal but appropriate.

“I know, it’s just boring.” Noah crinkles his nose. Carl laughs, fixes his hair and puts his shoes on. He grabs his school bag and throws his Vans in there, just in case he needs him.

As six thirty approaches, Carl realizes he’s more nervous about the ride to dinner than the actual dinner. He fidgets with his pants and paces around the room a few times before Negan finally knocks on the door. Noah gives him a strange smile and Carl pulls the door open.

“Wow, Carl, you, um, look nice,” Negan mumbles and Carl smiles. Since when does he say “um” in every sentence?

Noah escorts them out the door, winks, and exclaims like a proud parent, “You two have fun!”

Negan flips him off, and Noah returns the vulgar gesture as he closes the door in his face.

~O~

The drive to Negan’s house is nice. The low music in the background of his car feels like a distraction, and Carl notices the way his hands are gripping the steering wheel a little too hard. He seems on edge during the drive, but he knows if Negan wants to talk about something, he would have no problem calling it out.

Carl climbs out of the car and walks up the steps from the sidewalk. With the sun still in the sky, he can see some old vines creeping up the sides of the house and the small white flowers that join them. Unexpectedly, he hears Negan’s door opens and closes, and then his boots on the sidewalk. Carl turns around to see him a few steps behind him.

“What are you doing?” He asks him.

“Coming with you, obviously.” Negan rolls his eyes and takes one long stride to join him at the top of the steps.

“Really? It seemed like you weren’t—”

“Yeah. Now let’s go inside and have the worst night of our lives.”

His face twists into the fakest smile Carl has ever seen. Carl elbows him and rings the doorbell. “I don’t ring doorbells,” he tells him and turns the knob. Carl supposes it’s okay because it’s his parent’s house, but he still feels a little uncomfortable.

They walk inside and through the foyer before his father appears. The surprise is evident on his face, but he smiles his charming smile and goes to hug his son. Negan, however, dodges his gesture and walks right past him. The embarrassment flashes on Mr. Greene’s kind features, but Carl looks away before he realizes that Carl saw his subtle gesture.

“Thank you so much for having us, Mr. Greene,” Carl says as they pass through the doorway.

“Thank you so much for coming, Carl. Enid has told me some about you. She seems very fond of you. And please, call me Hershel.” He smiles and Carl follows him into the living room.

Enid is sitting on the couch with her Media book on her lap as he enters. Her face lights up and she closes the book as Carl walks over and sits down next to her. He’s not sure where Negan went to, but he’ll appear sooner or later.

“So you and Negan are giving your friendship another try?” Enid asks with a slight frown. He wants to explain what is going on between Negan and him, but he’s honestly have no idea himself.

“It’s complicated.” He tries to smile but he feels it falter.

“You’re still with Lydia, right? Because my dad seems to think you and Negan are dating.” She laughs. He hopes his laugh doesn’t sound as fake as it feels. “I didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise, but I'm sure Negan will,” she says.

He shifts uncomfortably, unsure what to say. “Yeah, I’m still with Lydia, it’s just—”

“You must be Carl!” A woman’s voice rings through the room. Enid’s mom walks toward him and he stands up to shake her hand. Her eyes are bright and her smile is lovely. She is wearing a turquoise dress, similar to his dress shirt, with an apron printed with small strawberries and bananas over the top of it.

“It’s so nice to meet you; thank you for having me. Your home is beautiful,” he tells her. Her smile covers her face and she squeezes his hand.

“You are so welcome, dear, it’s my pleasure,” she says, beaming. A timer goes off from the kitchen and she jumps a little. “Well, I’m going to finish up in the kitchen, but I’ll see you all in the dining room in a few minutes.”

“What are you working on?” He asks Enid and she pulls out a folder.

“Next week’s assignments. That essay on robotic futuristic weapons is going to kill me.”

He laughs and nods; that essay took him hours to write. “Yeah, it was a killer. I just finished it a few days ago.”

“Well, if you two nerds are done comparing notes, I would love to eat dinner sometime in the next year,” Negan says. Carl glares at him, but Enid just laughs and puts her book down before walking to the dining room. It seems their wrestling match was good for them after all.

Carl follows them both to the large dining room. There, a long table is decorated beautifully with full place settings and multiple platters of food in the center. Charlotte really went all out for this; Negan better behave or Carl will kill him.

“Carl, you and Negan will sit on this side,” Charlotte instructs them and gestures to the left of the table. Enid sits across from Negan. Hershel and Charlotte take their seats on the other side of Enid.

Carl thanks her and sits down next to Negan, who is quiet and seems uncomfortable. Carl watches as Charlotte makes Hershel’s plate for him and he thanks her with a brief kiss on her cheek. It is such a sweet gesture, Carl has to look away. He fills his plate with roast beef, potatoes, and squash, then piles a roll on top of it. Negan chuckles quietly at the mound of food.

“What? I’m hungry,” Carl whispers.

“Nothing. I like a guy with an appetite.” He laughs again and piles his plate even higher than Carl's.

“So, Carl, how are you liking Georgia State so far?” Hershel asks.

Carl chews his food quickly so he can answer. “I really enjoy it. It’s only my first semester, though, so ask me again in a few months,” he jokes and everyone laughs, except Negan.

“Well, that’s great. Are you in any clubs on campus?” Charlotte asks and wipes her mouth with her napkin.

“Not yet, I plan on joining the Comic Club next semester.”

“Really? Negan used to be a member,” Hershel adds and Carl looks at Negan. His eyes are narrowed and he looks annoyed.

“So how do you like living near GSU?” Carl asks to divert attention from Negan. His eyes soften and Carl imagines that’s his way of thanking him.

“We enjoy it. When Hershel first became chancellor, we lived in a much smaller place until we found this house and we fell in love with it immediately.”

Carl’s fork drops against the glass plate. “Chancellor? Of GSU?” He gasps.

“Yes. Negan never mentioned it?” Hershel asks, looking over at his son.

“No, I didn’t.”

Charlotte and Enid follow Hershel’s eyes to Negan and he shifts nervously.

For his part, Negan looks back at his father with a glaring hatred. He launches to his feet, shouting, “No! Okay, no, I didn’t tell him—I don’t know why it fucking matters. I don’t need to use your name or position!” As he storms away from the table, Charlotte looks like she might cry, and Hershel's face is red.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know he . . .” Carlstarts.

“No, don’t apologize for his poor behavior,” Hershel tells him.

Carl hears the back door slam. “Excuse me,” he says, and stands up from the table to go find Negan.

~O~

He rushes out the back door and sees Negan pacing back and forth on the deck. He’s not sure what he can do to help the situation, but he knows he would rather be out here with Negan than face his family in the dining room after that outburst. He feels responsible for this whole thing anyway, since he agreed to come here when Negan didn’t want to. If Negan started suddenly hanging out with Carl’s family, he know he would feel weird about it.

Ha, like his family would ever let that happen, his subconscious points out.

As if he heard his thoughts, Negan shoots him an annoyed look. When Carl approaches him he turns away from him.

“Negan-”

“No, Carl, don’t,” he says sharply. “I know you’re going to say that I need to go back in there and apologize to them. But there is no way in hell that is happening, so don’t waste your breath! Why don’t you just go back in there and enjoy your dinner and leave me the hell alone.”

Carl takes a step closer, but all he can manage to say is “I don’t want to go back in there.”

“Why not? You fit in perfectly with their prudish and boring personalities.”

Ouch! Why is he here again? Oh, yeah, that’s right: to be Negan’s punching bag.

“You know what? Fine! I will leave—I don’t know why I just can’t stop trying with you!” Carl shouts, but hopes they can’t hear him inside.

“Because you just can’t take a hint, I guess.” As the words leave his mouth, Carl feels the lump growing in his throat.

“The hint is well-taken.” He stares at the stone patio and tries to swallow the sting from Negan’s words, but it’s impossible. When he looks up at Negan, his cold eyes meet his.

“That’s it? That’s your defense?” He laughs and rakes his hands through his hair.

“You don’t deserve any more of my time. You don’t deserve for me to even speak to you, or those nice people in there to spend their time setting up this dinner to have you ruin it! That’s what you do: ruin things, everything! And I'm done being one of those things.” His tears soak his face as Negan steps toward him. Carl backs away, his feet tripping on something. Negan reaches out to steady him, but Carl grabs hold of a patio chair instead. He doesn't want or need his help.

Looking up, Carl sees that Negan’s expression is one of exhaustion. His voice is, too, when he says softly, “You’re right.”

“I know I am.” Carl turns away from him.

Faster than he could have imagined, Negan snakes his fingers around Carl’s wrist and pulls him to his chest. Carl leans into him without hesitation, wanting to touch him so badly. But he knows better: he can hear the warning in the thump of his heart, rapid beneath his chest. He wonders if Negan can hear it, too, or feel the pounding of his pulse under Negan’s grip. Negan’s eyes are full of anger and Carl knows they mirror each other's.

Carl has no warning before Negan crashes his lips down on his, the force of his mouth almost painful. His action is so full of desperation and hunger that Carl is lost. Lost in Negan. Lost in the salty taste of his tears on both their lips, lost in his fingers threaded through Carl’s hair. His hands move from Carl’s head to his waist and Negan lifts him onto the railing. His legs part for him and Negan moves between them, never losing contact with his mouth. They are all heat and gasps, tangled in each other. Carl’s teeth graze over his bottom lip, causing Negan to groan and pull Carl even closer.

The back door creaks open, breaking the spell. Turning to look, Carl is horrified as Enid’s soft eyes meet his. Her face is red, and her eyes wide. He pushes Carl away from him and jumps down from the rail, adjusting his shirt as his feet hit the deck.

“Enid, I-” he begins.

She holds up her hand to silence him and steps toward them. Negan’s breathing is so loud that Carl swears it echoes between the house and the trees. Negan’s cheeks are flamed, his eyes wild.

“I don’t understand. I thought you guys hated each other, and here you are. You have a girlfriend, Carl, I didn’t think you were like that.” Enid’s words are harsh but her tone is soft.

“I’m not. I don’t know what this is.” He motions between him and Negan. Negan stays silent, for which Carl is glad. “Lydia knows, well, about before. I was going to tell you, I just don’t want you to think differently of me,” he says, almost apologetically.

“I don’t know what to think.” Enid says and walks back toward the door.

Then, like something out of a movie, a clash of thunder rolls through the air.

“It looks like it might storm,” Negan says, his eyes scanning the darkening sky. Despite his flushed appearance, his voice is calm.

“A storm? Enid just caught us kissing,” Carl says, feeling the fire slowly burning out between them.

“She’ll be okay.”

Carl looks up at him, expecting to see a smug expression, but it’s not there. Negan puts his hand on Carl’s back and rubs gently.

“Do you want to go back inside or do you want me to take you home?” he asks.

It’s astounding how abruptly his mood can change from angry to lustful to calm.

“I would like to go back inside and finish dinner. What do you want to do?”

“I suppose we can go back in; the food is pretty good,” he says, smiling, and Carl laughs. “That’s a lovely sound,” he tells him and Carl meets his gaze.

“You’re in a much better mood,” he says and Negan smiles again.

He rubs the back of his neck like he always does. “I don’t understand it, either.”

So he is just as confused as Carl is? He wishes his feelings for him weren’t so strong; then he could deal with him much better. When Negan says things like this it makes Carl care for him that much more. He only wishes Negan could feel the same, but he has been warned by Noah and Negan himself that it will never happen.

Thunder rolls again and Negan takes Carl’s hand. “Let’s go inside before it rains.”

Carl nods and he leads them inside. He doesn’t remove his hand from his as they walk back into the dining room. Enid’s eyes dart down to note this, but she says nothing. As much as he doesn't want Enid to see it, Carl loves the way Negan’s hand feels over his. He loves it too much to pull away. Enid focuses back on her plate as they retake their seats. Letting go of Carl’s hand, Negan looks up at his parents.

“I'm sorry for yelling at you that way,” he mutters.

The surprise on everyone’s face is evident and Negan looks down at the table. “I hope I didn’t ruin the dinner that you put so much effort into,” he continues.

Carl can’t help himself. He reaches under the table and puts his hand over Negan’s, giving it a light squeeze.

“It’s okay, Negan, we understand. Let’s not let the night be ruined; we can still enjoy the dinner.” Charlotte smiles and Negan looks at her. He gives her a small smile, which Carl knows takes a lot of effort from him. Hershel doesn’t say anything, but he nods in agreement with the sentiment.

Carl slowly pulls his hand away, but Negan laces his fingers through his and looks sideways at him. He hopes he doesn't wear the giddy expression he feels inside. For what seems like the first time in his life, he doesn't over think things, like why he’s holding his hand when he’s dating Lydia.

Dinner continues well, but Carl finds himself a little intimidated by Hershel now that he knows he’s the chancellor. That is a huge deal. He tells them about when he moved from South Carolina, and how he loves there, and but fall in love the state of Georgia in particular. Negan is still holding Carl’s hand as they both struggle to eat using one hand, but neither of them seems to mind.

“The weather could be better, but it’s beautiful here,” Charlotte muses, and Carl nods in agreement.

“What are your plans after college?” Charlotte asks him as everyone finishes eating.

“I’m going to move to New York, and hopefully work in gaming company while I work on my first comic book,” he says with confidence.

“Gaming? Do you have any companies in mind?” Hershel asks.

“Not exactly. I will take any opportunity I can get to get my foot in the door.”

“That’s great. I happen to have some pretty good connections at The Governor’s. Have you heard of it?” he asks and Carl looks at Negan. He had mentioned knowing someone there before.

“Yes, I’ve heard great things about it.” He smiles.

“I can make a call for you if you would like, to see about an internship. It would be a great opportunity for you. You seem like a very bright young man, and I’d love to help out.”

Carl takes his hand out of Negan’s and clasps it with his other just under his chin. “Really? That would be so nice of you! I really appreciate it!”

Hershel tells him that he will call whoever it is that he knows on Monday, and Carl thanks him repeatedly. He assures him it’s nothing and that he loves to help anytime he can. Carl puts his hand back under the table, but Negan has moved his hand away, and when Charlotte stands and begins to clear the table, Negan excuses himself and walks off upstairs.

~O~

Charlotte smiled appreciatively when Carl offered to help with the cleanup, and seemed a little surprised he would. He loads the dishwasher while she washes the large serving plates. He realizes the plates all look really new, and remember how much damage Negan caused that night. He can be so cruel.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you and Negan been seeing each other?” She blushes at her own question, but Carl gives her a warm smile.

Figuring it best just to dodge the dating question, he says, “Well, we have only known each other about a month; he is friends with my roommate, Noah.”

“We have only met a few of Negan’s friends. You are, well, you are different from the ones that I have come across.”

“Yeah, we’re very different.”

Lightning flashes and the rain begins to pound against the windows. “Wow, it’s really coming down out there,” she says and pushes the small window in front of the sink closed.

“Negan isn’t as bad as he seems,” she tells him, though really it feels sort of like she’s reminding herself. “He’s just hurt. I would love to believe that he won’t always be this way. I must say I was very surprised that he came tonight, and I can only believe that’s your influence on him.”

Taking him by surprise, she wraps her arms around him and pulls him into a hug. Unsure what to say, he hugs her back. She pulls away but keeps her well-manicured hands on his shoulders.

“Really, thank you,” she says, then blots her eyes with a tissue from her apron before returning to the dishes.

She is too kind for him to tell her that he doesn't have any influence on Negan. Negan came tonight only because he wanted to annoy Carl. After he finishes loading the dishwasher, he stares out the window watching the raindrops trickle down the glass. It is remarkable that Negan, who hates everyone except himself, and maybe his mother, has all these people who care about him yet refuses to let himself care for them. He is lucky to have them. Carl knows he’s one of those people. He would do anything for Negan; even though he would deny it, he knows it to be true. He has no one, except Lydia and his family.

“I’m going to go check on Hershel. Make yourself at home, dear,” Charlotte says to him. He nods and decide to go find Negan, or Enid, whichever one of them appears first.

Enid is nowhere to be found downstairs, so he makes his way up to Negan’s room. If he’s not up here, he figures, he’ll just go sit downstairs alone. He turns the handle, but the door is locked.

“Negan?” He tries to speak quietly so no one hears him. He taps his knuckles against the door but hears nothing. Just as he starts to turn away, the door clicks and Negan opens it.

“Can I come in?” Carl asks him and Negan nods once and pulls the door open just enough for him. There is a breeze in the room and Carl can smell the cool scent of the rain coming through the bay window. Negan walks over and sits down on the built-in bench surrounding the window and raises his knees up. He stares out the window but doesn’t say a word to him. Carl sits across from him and wait as the constant drumming of the rain creates a calming rhythm.

“What happened?” Carl finally asks. When Negan looks at him with a confused expression, he explains: “I mean downstairs. You were holding my hand and then why did you pull away?” He’s embarrassed by the desperation in his voice. He sounds too needy, but the words have already been delivered.

“Was it the internship—do you not want me to take it for some reason? You offered to help me before?”

“That’s just it, Carl,” he says, and looks out the window again. “I want to be the one to help you, not him.”

“Why? It’s not a competition, and you were the one who offered first, so thank you.” He wants to ease Negan’s mind on this, even though Carl doesn't understand why it matters.

Negan lets out an exasperated sigh and hugs his knees. Silence hangs between them as they both stare out the window. The wind has picked up, swaying the trees back and forth, and the lightning is more frequent now.

“Do you want me to leave now? I can call Noah and see if Beth can pick me up,” he whispers. He don’t want to leave but sitting in silence with Negan is driving him insane.

“Leave? How do you get that I want you to leave from me saying I want to help you?” He raises his voice.

“I-I don’t know. You aren’t speaking to me and the storm is getting worse…” He stutters.

“You drive me fucking crazy, Carl, it’s maddening.”

“How?” Carl says with a frown.

“I try to tell you that I that I want to help you and I hold your hand but that doesn’t do anything, fucking hell, you still don’t get it. I don’t know what else to do.” Negan puts his face in his hands. He can’t possibly mean what Carl thinks he does?

“Get what? I don’t get what, Negan?”

“That I fucking want you. More than I have ever wanted anyone or anything in my entire life.” Negan looks away from him.

Carl’s stomach flips over and over and his head starts to spin. The air between them has once again shifted. Negan’s unguarded admission hits him hard. Because Carl wants him, too. More than anything.

“I know you don’t you don’t feel that way, but I . . .” he begins and this time Carl’s the one to cut him off.

Carl move Negan’s hands off his knees and pulls around him, bringing Negan closer towards him. He hovers over Carl, uncertainty clear in his hazel eyes.

Carl hooks his finger into the collar of Negan’s shirt and pulls him down. Eye to eye. Negan rests his knee beside Carl’s thighs on the bench and Carl looks up at him again. Negan takes a few breaths, his eyes shifting from Carl’s lips back to his eyes. His tongue swipes over his lower lip and Carl inches closer. He expected Negan to kiss him by now.

“Kiss me,” Carl begs.

  
And he moves his head closer, leaning into him. Negan snakes his arm around his back and guides him down so Carl’s back is lying flat on the cushioned bench.

Carl opens his legs for him, for the second time today, and he lays his body between them. Negan’s face is inches away from his when Carl lifts his head up to kiss him. He can’t wait any longer.

As their lips brush, he gently pulls away, nuzzles his head in Carl’s neck, planting a small kiss there, then slowly brings his lips back up. He kisses the corner of Carl’s mouth, then his jaw, sending shivers of pleasure through him. Negan’s lips brush over his once more and he runs his tongue over Carl’s bottom lip before closing his lips around his and opening them again.

The kiss is gentle and slow, as he laps his tongue around Carl’s. One of his hands rests on Carl’s hip, fisted around the material of his shirt where it has bunched up at end of his stomach. The other hand caresses Carl’s cheek as he kisses him; Carl’s arms wrap around his back, hugging him tightly to him.

Every fiber of him wants to bites Negan’s lip, to pull his shirt over his head, but the soft and gentle way he is kissing Carl feels even better than the usual burn of fire.

Negan’s lips moles to his, and Carl’s hands travel up his back. His narrow hips grind down on Carl’s, and a whimper escapes his lips. Negan swallows Carl’s gasps as his lips trace his, movement for movement.

“Fuck, Carl, the things you do to me… the way you make me feel,” he whispers into Carl’s mouth. His words unravel Carl and he reaches for the hem of Negan’s shirt. His hand travels down from his cheek, to his chest, and down his stomach, where goose bumps are forming on Carl’s skin.

Negan’s hand moves to the small space between their bodies where Carl’s legs are parted, and he gasps as Negan rubs gently over the his crotch. He applies a little more pressure and Carl groans and arches his back off the bench.

No matter how angry or upset he makes Carl, one touch from him and Carl is under his control. But his calm and control seem to be faltering; he is trying to hold on to them, but Carl can see Negan’s resolve crumbling. Negan brushes his nose against Carl’s cheek as Carl pulls Negan’s shirt up and over his head.

It strains to get over his hair, but he reaches one hand up and tugs it as he lifts off him. He tosses the shirt and immediately dips his head back down and finds Carl’s lips once more. Carl grabs Negan’s hand and moves it back between his thighs; a small chuckle vibrates through him and he looks down at him.

“What do you want to do, Carl?” His voice is hoarse.

“Anything,” Carl tells him and means it. He will do anything with him, and he doesn’t care about the consequences that might come tomorrow. Negan said he wants Carl, and Carl is his to take. He has been since Carl kissed him that first time.

“Don’t say anything, because there are a lot of things I can do to you,” he groans and pushes his thumb against Carl’s jeans. Carl’s imagination runs wild with ideas.

“You decide,” he moans as Negan moves his hand in a circle, teasing him.

“You’re so hard for me,” He licks his lips and Carl moans again. “Let’s get these pants off, okay?” he asks, but before Carl answer Negan moves off him. His hands unbuckled Carl’s pants and slides them down, pulling them down, along with his boxers at the same time. The cool air hits him and Carl bucks his hips involuntarily.

“Fucking fuck,” he mutters as his eyes rake Carl’s body and stop between his legs. Unable to stop himself, he reaches down and cups Carl’s exposed cock, touching his pre-come. Then he brings his finger to his lips and he sucks on it with hooded eyes. Shit. Watching him sends heat through Carl’s whole body.

“Remember when I said I wanted to suck you?” he asks, and Carl nods. “Well, I want to now. Okay?” His expression is eager. Carl’s a little embarrassed by the idea, but if it feels as good as the handjob at the stream, Carl wants him to. Negan licks his lips again and bores his eyes into his. The last time Carl was going to let him do this, they ended up fighting because he was being cruel. He hopes Negan doesn’t ruin it again.

“Do you want me to?” he asks, and Carl groans.

“Please, Negan, don’t make me say it,” Carl begs.

He brings his hand back down to him and runs his fingers along Carl’s hips in wide circles. “I won’t,” he promises. Carl’s relieved. He nods his head and he lets out a breath.

“We should move to the bed so you have more room,” he suggests and reaches for Carl’s hand. He walks to the side of the bay window and pulls a string, setting free thick blue curtains, making the room much darker.

“Take it off,” he demands quietly and Carl does as he’s told. He pulls off his dress shirt and is left in just his undershirt with a baseball bat on it. Negan's eyes go wide and he reaches out and traces the bat between his long fingers.

“Cute.” He smiles and Carl cringes. He needs to invest in some new underclothes if Negan is going to keep seeing him in them. Carl hates that he's the only one naked and tries to cover his naked lower half from him. He’s more comfortable with Negan than he has ever been with anyone, but he’s still shy. He glances toward the door and Negan pads over to make sure it’s locked.

“Are you smirking at me?” Carl scolds and Negan shakes his head.

“Never.” He chuckles and leads him to the bed. “Sit down at the edge of the bed, with your feet on the ground so I can kneel in front of you,” he instructs.

Carl sits down on the large bed and Negan slides his down by Carl’s thighs. His feet dangle but don’t reach the floor.

“I never realized how tall the bed is,” Negan says and laughs. “So maybe moves the toward the top.” Carl scoots toward the top of the bed and Negan follows behind. He hooks his arms around Carl’s thighs and sits him upright so Carl has his feet planted on the ground more comfortably. The anticipation of how this will feel is driving Carl wild. He wishes he had more experience so he would know what to expect.

“Would you like at this shit? Me, Negan, kneeling before someone. Ain't this some shitty karma,” Negan chuckles to himself and drops to his knees, coming closer to Carl.

Negan’s growing beard tickles Carl’s thighs as Negan lowers his head.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he mutters against Carl’s stomach. Carl’s pulse is thrumming through his ears, and he temporarily forget their in the house with other people.

“Spread your legs more, baby,” he whispers and Carl obliges. He gives Carl a dazed smile and brings his mouth down and kisses just under his belly button. His tongue swirls around Carl’s creamy skin and his eyes flutter closed. He nips at the soft skin covering Carl’s hip and he yelps in surprise. Negan sucks the skin between his lips. It stings, but there is something so sensual about it that he doesn't mind the pain.

“Negan, please,” He breathes. He needs some sort of relief from his slow, teasing torture.

Then, without warning Negan’s tongue presses flat against Carl’s tip, making him cry out in pleasure. He makes small strokes with his tongue on Carl’s shaft, and Carl’s hands grip the comforter on the bed. He wriggles underneath Negan’s skillful tongue and Negan wraps his arms tighter, holding Carl in place.

Carl feels Negan’s inching finger closer to his hole as his tongue’s runs down Carl’s shaft again and the burn begins to build in Carl’s stomach. Negan brushes his lips against Carl’s balls which adds a different texture and temperature to the sensation.

Without Carl’s permission, Negan slowly slides a finger inside him, gently easing it in. Carl clenches his eyes closed, waiting for the uncomfortable feeling to go away.

“Are you okay?” Negan lifts his head up slightly, his plump lips glistening from Carl.

Carl nods, unable to find the words, and Negan withdraws his finger slowly and slides it back in. It feels incredible in combination with Negan sucking his cock fully now. Carl groans and moves a hand to his soft hair, threading his fingers through and tugging. His finger keeps entering him and drawing out slowly, slowly stretching him. Thunder booms throughout the house, echoing off the walls and all around, but Carl is too distracted to care.

“Negan,” He moans as Negan’s tongue finds that overly sensitive spot on Carl’s tip and he gently sucks. Carl never knew that anything could feel this way, this good. His body is overtaken by sensation and pleasure, and he sneaks a peak down at Negan, who looks incredibly sexy sucking his cock, the hard muscles under his skin contracting as he pumps his finger in and out.

“Should I make you come this way?” he asks, pulling his lips away from Carl. He whimpers at the loss of his mouth and nods frantically. Negan smirks and flicks his tongue at Carl’s tip, this time using his hand pump Carl’s shaft up and down.

“Fuck, Negan,” he breathes and Negan groans around his cock, sending the vibrations straight through Carl’s body. His legs stiffen, and he mutters Negan’s name repeatedly as he starts to come in hot squirts. His vision blurs and he screws his eyes shut. Shit - this is it.

Negan holds him and sucks faster, his head bobbing up and down. Carl takes one hand from Negan’s hair and covers his mouth with it, biting down to ensure he won’t scream. Seconds later, his head hits the pillow behind him and his chest is heaving up and down as he tries to catch his breath. His body is still tingling from the euphoric state he was just in.

Carl barely aware of Negan has stood up and his body is moving up on the bed and lying next to him. He props himself on his elbow and brings his thumb up to caress Carl’s cheek. He lets him come back to reality before trying to make Carl speak.

“How was that?” he asks, his voice holding a hint of uncertainty as Carl rolls his head to look at him.

“Mmm-hmm.” Carl nods and Negan chuckles. It was incredible, beyond incredible. Now Carl knows why everyone does this type of stuff.

“That sedated, huh?” he teases. The pad of his thumb brushes Carl’s lower lip. Carl bring his tongue out to wet his lips, and it touches Negan’s thumb. “Good, because I don't do that shit for just anyone.”

“Thank you.” Carl smiles shyly. He doesn't know why he feels shy after what they just did, but he does. Negan has seen him in his most vulnerable state, a state that no one else has, and that terrifies him as much as it excites him.

“I should have warned you before using my finger. I tried to be gentle,” he says in apology.

Carl shakes his head. “It was  unexpected but it’s okay, it felt good.” Carl blushes.

Negan smiles and tucks Carl’s hair behind his ear. A small shiver runs down Carl’s spine, and Negan’s brows lower. “Are you cold?” he asks and Carl nods. Negan surprises him by pulling the side of the comforter over and covering his almost naked body.

Bravery brings Carl to scoot closer to him. Negan’s eyes regard him carefully as he curls his body and lays his head against the hard surface of his stomach. His skin is colder than Carl expected, though the breeze is still floating through the room from the storm. He pull the sheets up and cover Negan’s chest, hiding his head underneath. He lifts them up, revealing Carl’s face, and Carl ducks away from him, laughing lightly at their little game of hide-and-seek.

Carl wishes he could just lay here with him for hours, feeling his heartbeat against his cheek. “How much longer until we have to go back downstairs?” He asks.

Negan shrugs. “We should probably go down now before they think we are fucking up here,” he jokes and they both laugh a little. Carl’s getting more and more used to his foul mouth, but it’s still a little shocking to hear him say those words so casually. The thing that shocks Carl the most is the way his skin tingles when Negan says them.

Carl groans and climbs out of bed. He feels Negan’s eyes on him as Carl bends down to retrieve his clothes. Carl tosses Negan his shirt and he pulls it over his head, then ruffles his messy hair. Carl steps into his boxers and pulls them on under Negan’s gaze. His jeans are next and Carl almost trips over them as he steps into them.

“Stop watching me; it’s making me nervous,” Carl tells him, and Negan smiles, his dimples as prominent as ever.

His hands slides into his pocket and he looks up at the ceiling. Carl laughs and finally get the jeans up.

“Can you pass me my shirt?” Carl asks him. Negan’s eyes scan his body and Carl can see his pupils dilate from three feet away. Carl imagines that his face is flushed with a dazed look and he's still shirtless, his hair sticking up everywhere.

  
“Y-yeah,” Negan says, gulping. It is astounding that someone as handsome—well, as sexy—as Negan would be as affected by Carl as he is. Carl knows he’s considered attractive, but he’s nothing like the people Negan usually messes with.

Carl puts his shirt on when Negan it hands it to him. He shivers and leans back against Negan. Carl purposely pushes his ass against him and Negan quickly sucks in a breath. His hands move down to Carl’s hips and he squeezes gently. Carl feel him hardening against him, sending electricity through his body for what feels like the hundredth time today.

“Negan?” Charlotte’s voice calls from the hall as a delicate tapping hits the door, and Carl becomes extremely thankful they’re both dressed.

Negan rolls his eyes and brings his lips to Carl’s ear. “Later,” he promises and walks to the door. He switches on the light before opening it, revealing Charlotte.

“I'm so sorry for intruding, but I made some desserts as well, and thought maybe you two would like some?” she offers sweetly. Negan doesn’t answer her but he looks back at Carl, waiting for his reply.

“Yes, that would be lovely,” Carl says with a smile and she grins back.

“Great! I will see you downstairs,” she tells them and turns to walk away.

“I’ve already had my dessert,” Negan says mischievously, and Carl swats his arm.

  
Charlotte has made lots of sweets for them to eat. Carl eats a few while they discuss her love for baking. Enid doesn’t join them in the dining room but it doesn’t seem to cause any suspicion. Carl looks over to where she just sits on the couch with her book on her lap and reminds himself that he needs to make sure they talk soon. He doesn't want to lose her friendship.

“I love baking as well, I'm just no good at it,” Carl tells Charlotte, and she laughs.

“I would love to teach you,” she says. Hope is evident in her brown eyes and Carl nods.

“That would be great.” He doesn’t have the heart to say no. He feels for her; she is really trying to make an effort to get to know him. She believes him to be Negan’s boyfriend and he can’t tell her otherwise. Negan has made no move to tell her or his father, either, which gives him a swell of hope. He wishes this night was how his life could always be, enjoying spending time with Negan, his eyes constantly meeting his as Carl converses with adoptive parents. Negan is being nice, for the last hour at least, and his thumb rubs over Carl’s knuckles in a gentle gesture that gives him a constant string of butterflies. The rain continues to pour outside and the wind howls.

After they finish the desserts, Negan gets up from the table. Carl looks at him questionably and Negan leans down to whisper in his ear.

“Be right back, just going to the bathroom,” he says, and Carl watches him disappear down the hall.

“We both cannot thank you enough. It is so wonderful having Negan here, even if it’s only one dinner,” Charlotte says and Hershel takes her hand above the table.

“She’s right. It is wonderful, as his adoptive father, to see my only son in love. I had always worried he wouldn’t be capable. He was an… angry child,” Hershel mutters and looks at Carl. He must notice how Carl shifts uncomfortably in his seat, because he follows up with “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, we just love to see him happy.”

Happy? Love? Carl chokes on his breath and breaks into a heap of coughs; the cool water in his glass slides down his throat, calming it, and he looks back at them. They think Negan is in love with him? It would be incredibly rude to laugh at them, but they obviously don't know their own son.

Before he can respond, Negan returns and Carl thanks the heavens that he doesn't have to respond to their sweet, but false, assumptions. Negan doesn’t sit down, but rather stands behind Carl with his hands on the back of the chair.

“We really should get going. I have to take Carl back to the dorms,” he says.

“Oh, don’t be silly. You two should stay tonight. It’s storming outside and we have plenty of room. Right, Hershel?”

Hershel nods. “Of course, you’re both welcome to stay.”

Negan looks at him. Carl wants to stay. To extend his time with Negan in what feels like a world away from the world, especially when he is in such a good mood.

“I don’t mind,” Carl answers. But he doesn’t want to upset him by wanting to stay here any longer. His eyes are unreadable, but he doesn’t seem to be angry.

“Great! Then it’s settled. I’ll show Carl to a room, unless you’ll be staying with Negan in his?” she asks. There is no judgment behind her voice, only kindness.

“No, I’d like my own room, please. If that’s okay?”

Negan glares at him.

So he wanted Carl in his room with him? The thought excites him, but he doesn't feel comfortable with them knowing Negan and him are at that point yet. His snarky subconscious reminds him that they aren’t dating at all, or even close to it, so being at a “point” isn’t possible. That and he has a girlfriend. He ignores his thoughts as usual and follows Charlotte upstairs. He wonders why she’s sending them straight to bed, but he’s not comfortable enough to ask.

She shows Carl to a room directly across from Negan’s. It isn’t quite as large, but it’s decorated just as beautifully. The bed is a little smaller and sits on a white frame against the wall. There are pictures of boats and anchors scattered through the room. He thanks her multiple times and she hugs him again before leaving him to his room.

Carl walks around the room and finds himself at the window. The backyard is much bigger than he had thought; he has only seen the deck and the trees on the left side. On the right side there is a small building that looks like a greenhouse, but he can’t tell through the heavy rain.

As he stares at the rain, his thoughts begin to run wild. Today has been the best time he has ever had with Negan, despite his multiple outbursts. Negan has held his hand, which he never does; he put his hand on Carl’s back as they walked, and he did his best to comfort him when Carl was worried about Enid. This is the furthest they have gone in their … friendship, or whatever this is. That’s the confusing part: he knows they can’t and never will actually date, but maybe whatever they are doing now will be good enough? He has never imagined being someone’s friend with benefits, but he knows he won’t be able to stay away from Negan. He has tried many times now, and it never works.

A light knock on the door brings him out of his thoughts. He expects to see Charlotte or Negan, but instead he finds Enid when he opens the door. Her hands are in her pockets, and her pretty face holds a small, awkward smile.

“Hey,” she says and Carl smiles.

“Hey, do you want to come in?” he asks her, and she nods.

She walks over and sits on the bed; she pulls the chair out from the small table in the corner and takes a seat.

“I—” they both say at the same time and laugh.

“You first,” she suggests.

“Okay, I’m so sorry that you found out about Negan and me that way. I didn’t go out there with that intention. I was just making sure he was okay; this whole dinner with his father was really getting to him and somehow we just ended up kissing. I know how terrible it is of me, and I know I’m horrible for cheating on Lydia, but I’m just so confused, and I tried to stay away from Negan. I really did.”

“I’m not judging you, Carl. I was just surprised to see you two making out on the deck. I thought when I walked out I would find you yelling at each other.” She laughs and continues. “I knew something was up with you two when you had that fight in the middle of Media and then when you stayed last weekend, and then when he came back and started a fight with me. The signs were all there, but I thought you would tell me, though I do understand why you didn’t.”

He feels a huge weight lift off his shoulders. “You’re not mad at me? Or think any different of me?” He asks her and she shakes her head.

“No, of course not. I’m worried about you and Negan, though. I don’t want him to hurt you, and I believe he will. I’m sorry for saying that, but as your friend I need you to know that he will.”

He wants to get defensive and even angry, but part of him knows she is right. He just hopes somehow she isn’t.

“So what are you going to do about Lydia?”

He groans. “I have no idea. I’m afraid that if I break up with her I will regret it, but what I’m doing to her isn’t fair. I just need a little time to decide what to do.”

She nods.

“Enid, I’m so relieved that you aren’t mad at me. I was being a jerk earlier. I just didn’t know what to say. I'm sorry.”

“Me, too, I completely understand.” They both stand up and she hugs him. A warm and comforting hug as the door opens.

“Fuck, am I interrupting something?” Negan’s voice travels through the room.

“No, come in,” Carl tells him and Negan rolls his eyes. Carl hopes Negan is still in a decent mood.

“I brought you some clothes to sleep in,” he tells Carl. Negan places a small pile on the bed and goes to walk out.

“Thank you, but you can stay.” Carl doesn't want him to leave.

He looks at Enid and snaps, “No, I’m fucking good,” before leaving the room.

“He is so moody!” Carl says and plops down on the bed.

Enid chuckles and sits back down. “Yeah, moody is one word for it.”

They both burst into laughter and then Enid begins to talk about Ron and how she can’t wait for him to come visit next weekend. He almost forgot about the bonfire. Lydia is coming. Maybe he should tell her not to. What if this change between Negan and him is all in his head? He feels like something has changed between them today, and Negan did tell him he wants him more than Negan has ever wanted anyone. But Negan didn’t exactly say he has feelings for Carl, only that he wants him.

After an hour of Enid and him talking about everything from comics to the Georgia weather, she tells him good night and retreats to her room, leaving Carl alone to his thoughts and the sound of the rain.

 

 


	8. EIGHT

Carl picks up the clothes Negan brought him to wear: one of his signature black T-shirts, a pair of red-and-gray plaid pants, and some large black socks. He laughs at the idea of Negan actually wearing those, but then he realizes these are likely from the dresser of unworn clothes. He lifts the shirt up and it smells like him. Negan has worn this one, and recently. The smell is intoxicating, minty and indescribable, but it is Carl’s newly acquired favorite scent in the entire world. He changes into the clothes, finding the pants much too big but very comfortable.

He lies down on the bed and pulls the blanket up to his chest, his eyes fixated on the ceiling as he relives the whole day in his mind. He feels himself drifting off to sleep, to dream of hazel eyes and black T-shirts.

“NO!!” Negan’s voice jolts him awake. Is he hearing things?

“Please!” he yells again. Carl jumps out of bed and run across the hall. His hands find the cold metal of the doorknob to Negan’s room and, thank God, it opens.

“NO! Please...” he yells again. Carl didn’t think this through; if someone is hurting him, he has no idea what he will do. He fumbles around for the lamp and switch it on. Negan is shirtless and tangled in the thick comforter, thrashing and tossing. Without thinking, Carl sits on the bed and reaches for his shoulder. His skin is hot, too hot.

“Negan!” he says quietly, trying to wake him. Negan’s head snaps to the side, and he whimpers but doesn’t wake.

“Negan, wake up!” He says and shakes him harder while his body moves to sit astride his. Both of Carl’s hands go to his shoulders once more and he shakes him again.

Negan’s eyes fly open; terror fills them for a brief moment before confusion, then relief. Beads of sweat cover his forehead.

“Car,” he chokes. The way he says Carl’s name breaks his heart, then heals it. Within seconds Negan untangles his arms and brings them to Carl’s back, pushing him forward to lie on his chest. The wetness of his chest startles Carl, but he stays put. He can hear Negan’s heart beating, pumping rapidly against his cheek.

Poor Negan.

Carl puts both of his hands on Negan’s sides, hugging him. Negan strokes his hair as he repeats Carl’s name over and over in the light.

“Negan, are you okay?” His words are lower than a whisper.

“No,” he confesses. His chest is rising and falling slower than it was, but his breathing is still shallow. Carl doesn't want to push him to discuss what terror he has just dreamed.

He doesn't ask Negan if he wants him to stay; somehow he knows he does. When Carl lifts up to turn the lamp off Negan’s body stills.

“I was going to switch the light off, or do you want it on?” Carl asks him. Once he realizes his intentions Negan relaxes, letting him reach farther to the lamp.

“Off, please,” he begs. Once the room returns to darkness, Carl lies his head back on his chest. He would imagine lying this way, straddling his body would be difficult, but it is comforting to the both of them. Hearing Negan’s heartbeat under the hard surface of his chest is calming, more calming than the patter of the rain on the roof.

Carl would do anything, give anything, to be able to spend every night with Negan, to lie this way with him, to have his arms wrapped around him and his breathing slow in his ear.

 

~O~

  
Carl wakes up to Negan shifting below him. He’s still lying on top of Negan, his knees astride him. He lifts his head from where it rests on his chest and encounter his dazzling hazel eyes.

In the light of day Carl’s not sure if he wanted the way he was last night. He can’t read Negan’s expression, which leaves his nerves to take over. He moves to climb off him, since his neck feels sore from sleeping on his hard chest, and he needs to stretch his legs out anyway.

“Good morning.” Negan gives him a dimpled smile, soothing Carl’s fear.

“Good morning.”

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“My neck hurts,” Carl says, and Negan brings him to lie next to him, Carl’s back pressed against his front. Negan startles him by bringing his hand to his neck, causing Carl to jump.

He recovers quickly as Negan’s hand begins to rub his neck. His eyes close and he winces a little at his contact with the ache, but the pain slowly disappears as he massages.

He speaks before him. “Thank you.”

Carl turns his head to look at him. “For what?” Maybe he is telling Carl to thank him for the neck rub?

“For coming in here. For staying.” His cheeks flush and his eyes dart away from his. He is embarrassed. Negan embarrassed; he never ceases to amaze and confuse Carl.

“You don’t have to thank me. Do you want to talk about it?” Carl hopes he does. He wants to know what he dreams about.

“No,” he states plainly, and Carl nods. He wants to push it further, but he knows what will happen if he does.

“I will talk about how incredibly sexy you look wearing my shirt, though,” he coos in Carl’s ear. Negan nudges his head with Carl’s and brings his lips to his skin. Carl’s eyes close in response to his plump lips wrapping around his earlobe, gently tugging. Carl can feel him hardening against him, making him feel drowsy in an incredible way. This type of mood swing is one that he can enjoy.

“Negan,” he chirps and Negan chuckles against his neck.

His hands travel down Carl’s body; he brings his thumb along the waistband of the oversize plaid pajamas. His pulse begins to quicken and Carl gasps as his hand slides down the front of the pants. He always has the same effect on him; within seconds he feels himself rock hard in his boxers. Negan’s other hand travels to Carl’s chest and he hisses as he flicks his thumb over Carl’s sensitive nipple.

  
“I can’t get enough of you, Car.” His raspy voice is even deeper, filled with lust. His hand ghosts over Carl’s boxers and he pulls Carl as close to him as possible. His erection presses against Carl. He reaches down and take Negan’s hand, removing it from his pants. When Carl turns to face him, a frown covers Negan’s face.

“I... I want to do something for you,” Carl whispers slowly, embarrassed.

A smile overtakes the frown and Negan takes Carl’s chin in between his fingers, forcing them to look at each other.

“What do you want to do?” he asks. Carl doesn't know, exactly; he just knows he wants to make Negan feel as good as him. He wants to see Negan lose control like he did in this same room.

“I don’t know. What do you want me to do?” His lack of experience is evident in his tone.

Negan puts Carl’s hands in his and slides them down to the bulge in his pants. “I really want those plump lips wrapped around me.”

Carl gasps at his words, and feels his own cock straining.

“Is that something you want?” Negan asks, his hands moving circles over his crotch. His dark eyes regard Carl, gauging his reaction.

Carl nods and gulps, earning a smile from Negan. He sits up and pulls Carl to join him. Nervousness and want both flood Carl’s body. The loud jingle of his ringtone echoes through the room and Negan groans before snatching his phone off the table. His eyes meet the screen and he sighs.

“I’ll be right back,” he informs him and disappears out of the room. He returns a few minutes later and his mood has changed once more.

“Charlotte is making breakfast. It’s almost finished.” He pulls open the dresser and grabs a T-shirt, tossing it over his head without looking in Carl’s direction.

“Okay.” Carl stands up and goes to the door, needing to put a shirt on before he goes see his family.

“See you downstairs.” Negan’s tone is emotionless.

Carl swallows the lump rising in his throat. Guarded Negan is his least favorite Hardin, even less liked than angry Negan. Who called him, and why did it make him so distant? Why can’t he just stay in a good mood?

Carl nods and walks across the hall, smelling bacon that causes his stomach to grumble.

He puts a shirt, and pulls the drawstring on the plaid pants as tight as it will go. He contemplates putting yesterday’s clothes back on, but he really doesn't want to be uncomfortable this early in the morning. Checking the large mirror on the wall, he runs his fingers through his unruly hair and wipes the sleep from his eyes.

As he closes the bedroom door, Negan opens his. Instead of looking at him, Carl focuses on the wallpaper and walks forward down the hall. He can hear his steps behind him, and when he reaches the staircase Negan’s hand wraps around his elbow, pulling him gently.

“What’s wrong?” Negan asks, worry clouding his features.

“Nothing, Negan,” Carl snaps. He’s overly emotional and he hasn't even had breakfast yet.

“Tell me,” he demands, dipping his head so that his face is in full view.

Carl gives in. “Who called you?”

“No one.” Negan lies.

“Was it Sherry?” He doesn’t want to know the answer.

Negan doesn’t say anything, but his expression gives away that Carl’s right. He left the room as Carl was about to give him a blowjob to answer a phone call from Sherry? He should be more surprised than he is.

“Carl, it’s not-.” he begins. Carl pulls his arm from his grip and Negan clenches his jaw.

“Hey, guys.” Enid appears in the hall, and Carl smiles. Her hair is sticking up slightly and she wears plaid pants similar to his. She looks adorable and sleepy. Carl passes Negan and moves toward Enid. He refuses to let Negan know how embarrassed and hurt he is by him answering Sherry’s call while they were together like that.

“How did you sleep last night?” Enid asks and Carl follows her down the stairs, leaving a frustrated Negan to himself.

Charlotte has gone all out on breakfast, like Carl could have predicted she would. Negan joins them at the table a few minutes later, but Carl has already piled eggs, bacon, toast, a waffle, and a few grapes on his plate.

“Thank you so much for making this breakfast for us,” He tells Charlotte on his and Negan’s behalf; he knows Negan won’t be bothered with thanking her.

“It’s my pleasure, dear—how did you sleep? I hope the storm didn’t keep you awake.” She smiles.

Negan tenses beside him, probably worried Carl will mention his nightmare. Negan should know by now Carl would never do that, so his lack of trust only bothers him more.

“I slept great, actually. I sure didn’t miss my bed in my dorm!” Carl laughs and everyone joins him, everyone except Negan, of course. He takes a drink of his orange juice and keeps his eyes focused on the wall. Mindless breakfast chatter fills the dining room as Herschel and Enid banter about some football game.

After breakfast, Carl helps Charlotte clean up the kitchen once more. Negan hovers in the doorway, not offering to help but just watching him.

“If you don’t mind me asking, is that a greenhouse in the backyard?” Carl asks Charlotte.

“Why yes, it is. I haven’t done much with it this year, but I absolutely love gardening. You should have seen it last summer,” she says. “Do you like to garden?”

“Oh, yes, my… mother use to a greenhouse out back as well and it was where I spent most of my free time with her as a child.”

  
He hasn't mentioned his mother to anyone in a long time. Why was he doing it now?

  
“Really? Well, maybe if you two come around more often, we could make something out of mine,” she says. She is so kind, and loving. Everything Carl wishes he had in a mother.

He smiles. “That would be lovely.”

Negan disappears momentarily, and when he returns he clears his throat loudly. They both turn to look at him.

“We should get going soon,” he says and Carl frowns. He has Carl’s clothes and bag in his hands, holding out his Vans. It’s a little weird he doesn’t give Carl a moment to change out of the pajamas, and a little discomforting that Negan went through his things, but Carl overlooks it. They say their goodbyes and Carl hugs Charlotte and Hershel while Negan waits impatiently by the door.

Carl promises them that they will return soon, and hope that it will come true. He knew his time here would end, but it has been such a nice departure from his normal life, no lists, no alarms, no obligations. He’s not ready for it to end.

 

The car ride is awkward. Carl holds his clothes on his lap and stares out the window, waiting to see if Negan is going to break the silence that hangs between them. He makes no move to speak so Carl pulls his phone out of his bag. It’s off; it must have died last night. He tries to turn it on anyway and the screen comes to life. He’s relieved to find that he has no new voicemails or texts. The only noise in the car is the light rain and the slow screech of the windshield wipers.

“Are you still mad?” Negan finally asks as he pulls onto campus.

“No,” Carl lies. He’s not exactly mad, just hurt.

“It sure seems like you are. Don’t act like a child.”

“Well, I’m not. I couldn’t care less if you want to drop me off so you can go hook up with Sherry.” The words tumble from his mouth before he can stop them. He hates the way he feels about him and Sherry. It makes me sick to his stomach to think of them together. What is it about her, anyway? Her hair? Her smile?

“That’s not what I'm doing. Not that it’s your business,” Negan scoffs.

“Yeah, well, you jumped to answer your phone when I was about to, well, you know,” Carl mutters. He should have just stayed quiet. He doesn't want to fight with Negan right now. Especially when he doesn't know when he will see him again. He really wishes Negan hadn’t dropped Media. Negan just pushes his buttons, every single one.

“It isn’t like that, Carlton,” he says.

So they are back to Carlton?

“Really, Negan? It seems like it is to me. I don’t really give a crap anyway. I knew it wouldn’t last,” Carl finally admits to him and himself. The reason he doesn’t want to leave his father’s house is that he knew once it was just Negan and him, it would go back to this. It always does.

“What wouldn’t last?”

“This… us. You being decent to me.” He doesn't dare to look at him; that’s how he gets Carl to turn to putty every time.

“So what then? You’re going to avoid me for another fucking week? We both know that by this weekend you’ll be back in my bed,” he snaps.

He surely did not just say that.

“Ex-cuse me?!” Carl shouts. He’s at a loss for words. No one has ever talked to him the way Negan has—no one has ever been so disrespectful. Tears brim over his eyes as the car slows to park.

Before he can respond, Carl opens the door, grabs his things, and bolts toward his room. He cuts across the soaking grass and curse at himself for not taking the sidewalk, but he just needs to get as far away from Negan as possible. When he said he wants Carl, he meant sexually. He knew this but it hurts to let it soak in.

“Carl!” Negan calls out from a distance. One of Noah’s boots drops and falls to the ground but Carl keeps running. He will get him a new pair.

“Damn it, Carl! Stop!” he yells again. He hasn't expected Negan to follow him. He pushes himself to run faster, and finally he reaches his building and runs down the hall. By the time he reaches his dorm room, he’s full-on sobbing. He yanks the door open, then slam it shut behind him. His tears mix with the rain and he turns to look for his bath towel to clean off with—

And is frozen in place when he sees Lydia sitting on his bed.

Oh God, not now. Negan will be crashing through the door any second.

Lydia gets up and rushes toward him. “Carl, what's wrong? Where have you been?” Her hand tries to cup his cheek, but he turns his head. Pain flashes in her eyes as he turns away from her touch.

“It’s - I’m so sorry, Lydia,” Carl cries as Negan yanks the door open, the hinges squeaking and cracking from his might.

Lydia’s eyes widen and narrow as her gaze meets Negan’s. She backs away from Carl with a horrified expression. Negan tosses the boot that Carl left behind and walks farther into the room without acknowledging Lydia’s presence at all.

“I didn’t mean that, what I just said,” he says.

Lydia looks at Negan, hatred laced through her voice as she exclaims, “That’s where you were? You were with him all night? Are those his clothes? I tried to call you and text you all night and all morning—I left you countless voicemails and you were with him?”

“What? I—” Carl starts, but then turns to Negan. “You went through my phone, didn’t you? You deleted the messages!” He shouts at him. His head tells him to answer Lydia, but his heart is focused only on Negan.

“Yeah. I did,” Negan admits.

“Why the hell would you do that? You can answer Sherry’s calls, but you delete my messages from my girlfriend?!”

He winces as Carl calls Lydia his girlfriend.

“How dare you play these games with me, Negan!” He screams, wiping his tears away.

Lydia grabs Carl’s wrist and turns him to face her, which only prompts Negan to yank Carl back by his shoulders.

“Don't touch him,” Negan growls.

This is not happening. Carl watches as the daytime soap opera that has become his life unfolds in front of him.

“You don’t tell me what to do with my boyfriend, you prick,” Lydia says angrily, and shoves Negan.

Negan opens his mouth to say something (probably to destroy Lydia’s entire existence), but Carl grabs Negan’s shirt and pulls him back. Maybe he should let them say a few words to each other. Lydia can be as cruel as Negan, if not more, when she wants to be.

“Stop it! Negan, just go!” Carl says, wipes his eyes again.

Negan glares at Lydia and moves to stand in front of Carl.

“No, I’m not leaving this time, Carl. I have already done that too many times.” He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair.

“Carl, make him leave!” Lydia begs, but Carl ignores her. He has to know what Negan will say.

“I didn’t mean what I said in the car, and I don’t know why I took Sherry’s phone call. It’s a habit, I guess—please just give me another chance. I know you have already given me too many chances, but I just need one more. Please, Car.” He lets out a big breath. He sounds exhausted.

“Why should I, Negan? I have continued to give you chances to be my friend over and over,” he tells him. “I don’t think I have it in me to try again.” He’s faintly aware of Lydia gaping at them, but at the moment he doesn't care. He knows this is wrong—he’s wrong—but he’s never wanted anything so much in his life.

“I don’t just want to be friends, fucking hell, I want more.” His words knock the wind right out of Carl.

“No, you don’t.” Negan doesn’t date… so many people have told him and warned him about that. Negan doesn't do relationships, ever.

“Yes, I do. I do.”

“You said you don’t date and that I wasn’t your type,” Carl reminds him. His mind still can’t wrap itself around the fact that he’s having this conversation with Negan, in front of Lydia, at that.

“You aren’t my type, just the way that I’m not yours. But that’s why we are good for each other—we are so different, yet we’re the same. You told me once that I bring out the worst in you. Well, you bring out the best in me. I know you feel it, too, Carl. And yes, I didn’t date, until you. You make me want to date, you make me want to be better. I want you to think I'm worthy of you; I want you to want me the way I do you. I want to fight with you, even scream at each other until one of us admits we are wrong. I want to make you laugh, and listen to you ramble about graphic novels. I just fucking I need you. I know I’m cruel at times, fuck, all the time, but that’s only because I don’t know how else to be.” His voice becomes a half whisper, his eyes wild. “This has been me for so long, I have never wanted to be any other way. Until now, until you.”

Carl is dumbfounded. Negan’s said everything he wanted him to say but never imagined that he actually would. This is not the Negan he knows, but the way Negan’s words came out in a rushed string, and the heavy breathing that accompanied them, somehow make it all the more true and natural.

Carl’s not sure how he’s still standing after his declaration.

“What the hell? Carl?” Lydia says frantically.

“You should go,” He whispers, not breaking eye contact with Negan.

Lydia steps forward and crows with victory. “Thank you! I thought that was never going to end.”

Negan looks heartbroken, absolutely crushed.

“Lydia, I said you should go,” Carl repeats.

Both of them suck in a sharp breath at his words. Relief washes over Negan and Carl reaches for his hands, threading his small fingers through Negan’s trembling ones.

“What?” Lydia shouts. “You can’t be serious, Carl! We have known each other so long—this guy is just using you. He will toss you aside as soon as he is done with you, and I love you! Don’t make this mistake, Carl,” she begs.

He feels for her, and it hurts him to do this to her, but he knows he can’t be with Lydia. He wants Negan. More than anything he’s ever wanted in his life.

And Negan wants him. More with him.

His heart flutters again and he looks at Lydia, who opens her mouth to say something.

“I would stop talking. Now,” Negan warns her.

“I’m so sorry that it happened this way, I really am,” Carl says.

She doesn’t say anything else. She looks broken as she picks up the backpack she brought and leaves his room.

“Carl… do you really do feel the same way?” Negan gasps and Carl nods.

How could he not know this by now?

“No nodding, please say it.” Desperation fuels his words.

“Yeah, Negan I do,” Carl says. He doesn't have a beautiful or meaningful speech like Negan did, but those simple words seem to be enough for him.

The smile Carl receives heals some of the pain he feels from breaking Lydia’s heart.

“So what do we do now?” he asks. “I’m new at this.” He flushes.

“Kiss me,” Carl says and Negan pulls him to his chest, his hand fisting the loose fabric of his shirt on his back. His lips are cool and his tongue is warm as it slips into his mouth. Despite the chaos that just occurred in his small room, Carl feels calm. This feels like a dream. He's somehow knows it's the calm before the storm, but right now Negan is his anchor. He just prays that Negan doesn’t pull him under.

When Negan finally breaks their kiss, he sits on Carl’s bed and Carl joins him.

They’re quiet for a few minutes, so Carl begins to feel nervous, like there is some way he should be behaving now that they are _more_ , but he has no clue what way that is.

“What do you have planned for the rest of the day?” Negan asks.

“Nothing, just studying,” Carl says.

“Cool.” He clicks his tongue onto the roof of his mouth. He seems nervous, too, and Carl is glad it isn’t just him.

“Come here.” Negan beckons him and opens his arms.

The moment Carl sits on his lap, the door opens and Negan groans. Beth, Noah, and Simon all pour in and then stare at them as Carl climbs off Negan and sits on the other side of the bed.

“So are you guys like fuck buddies now?” Simon says plainly.

“No! We aren’t!” Carl says, shaking his head furiously. He doesn't know what he should tell them, so he just waits for Negan to say something. Negan stays quiet as Beth and Simon begin to talk to him about the party last night.

“It seems I didn’t miss much,” Negan says to them, and Simon shrugs.

“Until Sherry gave us a strip show; she got completely naked, you should have been there,” Simon replies. Carl cringes and looks toward Beth, who is staring at Noah, probably hoping he isn’t going to comment on Sherry being naked.

Negan smiles. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Carl gasps, then tries to conceal it as a cough. Negan did not just say that.

Negan face falls, seeming to understand what he just did.

Maybe this was a terrible idea; it is already sort of awkward, and now that everyone is in the room it’s magnified.

Why didn’t he tell them they are dating? Are they dating?

Carl doesn't really understand, himself. He thought after Negan’s confession that they were, but they never actually said it. Maybe they don’t need to? This uncertainty is already driving Carl crazy; the entire time he has been with Lydia he has never had to worry about her feelings for him. He never had to deal with ex-friends with benefits—He’s the only boy Lydia has ever kissed in her life (properly anyways), and honestly he likes it that way. He wishes Negan had never done anything with other people, or at least had done things with fewer of them.

“We’re going bowling after I change. Do you want to come?” Noah asks and Carl shakes his head.

“I have to catch up on my studying. I have barely gotten any done this weekend,” He tells him and looks away as the memories of this weekend flood through his mind.

“You should come, it will be fun,” Negan says, but Carl shakes his head. He really needs to stay in, and he was sort of hoping Negan would stay with him. Noah steps into the closet and returns a few minutes later with different clothes on.

“Ready, guys? You’re sure you don’t want to come?” Noah asks again.

Carl nods. “I’m sure.”

They all get up to leave, and Negan gives him a wave and a small smile before exiting the room. He’s disappointed with Negan’s goodbye, and hopes that he’d made these plans before this weekend together and the drama today.

But what did Carl expect? For him to rush over and kiss him, tell me he would miss him? He laughs at the thought. He doesn't know if anything will even change between Negan and him besides them actively trying to avoid one another.

He’s too used to how things are with Lydia, so he has no idea how this is going to be, and he hates not having control over every situation.

After an hour of studying and attempting to take a nap, Carl grabs his phone to text Negan. Wait, he doesn't even have his number. He has never thought about it before; they have never talked on the phone or texted before. They never needed to; they couldn’t stand each other. This is going to be more complicated than he thought.

He calls his father to catch up with him, and mostly to see if Lydia has told him what happened yet. She would be arriving back home soon from the two-hour drive, and he’s sure she won’t waste any time telling Rick everything. Rick answers with a simple hello, so Carl knows he has no clue yet. Carl tells him about his failed attempt to get a car, and the possible internship with The Governor’s. Of course, Rick reminds him that he has been at college over a month and he still haven’t found a car.

Carl rolls his eyes and and Rick passes the phone to Michonne so they can talk. Hopefully she can calm Rick down about his worrying ways.

After letting his father continue to ramble on about what he has been doing the last week, his phone lights up while he’s listening to him. He places him on speakerphone and reads the text.

*You should have come with us, with me*, the message reads. Carl’s heart swells; it’s Negan.

Pretending to listen to his father, he mumbles “Hmm . . . oh . . .” a few times while he texts him back.

*You should have stayed* he sends. He stares at the screen, waiting for him to reply.

*I'm coming to pick you up*, he replies after what seems like forever.

*What? No, I don’t want to go bowling, you’re already there. Just stay.*

*I already left. Be ready.*

Boy, he’s demanding, even through text messages.

His father is still talking and Carl has no idea what about. He stopped listening once Negan texted him. “Dad, I will call you back,” he interrupts.

“Why?” He asks with surprise and disdain.

“I have to go to a study group at… the study place. I gotta go.”

He hangs up and hastily goes into the closet, pulling Negan’s pajamas off and grabbing his new jeans and a plain white top. He brushes out his hair, which looks decent considering it hasn’t been washed. He checks the time and goes down to the bathroom to brush his teeth, and when he returns Negan is waiting on his bed.

“Where were you?” he asks.

“Brushing my teeth,” Carl tells him and put his toiletry bag away.

“Ready?” He stands up and walks toward Carl. He half expect him to hug him, but he doesn’t. He just moves to the door.

Carl nods and grabs his phone.

When they get to his car, Negan keeps the radio down as he drives. Carl really doesn't want to go to the bowling alley. He hates bowling, but he wants to spend time with him. He doesn't like how codependent he already feels.

“How long do you think we will be there?” Carl asks after a few minutes of silence.

“I don’t know. Why?” He looks sideways at him.

“I don’t know. I don’t really care for bowling.”

“It won’t be too bad. Everyone’s there,” Negan assures him. Carl hopes everyone doesn’t include part-time bitch Sherry.

“I guess,” Carl mumbles and looks out the window.

“You don’t want to go?” His voice is quiet.

“Not really, that’s why I said no the first time.” Carl laughs a little non laugh. It sounds fake even in his own ears.

“Let’s go somewhere else, then?”

“Where?” Carl is irritated with him, but he’s not sure why.

“My house,” he suggests and Carl smiles and nods. Negan smile grows, showing the dimples that Carl has grown so fond of. “My house it is, then.” He reaches over and puts his hand on Carl’s thigh. His skin warms, and he puts his hand over Negan’s.

Fifteen minutes later they are pulling up to the large fraternity house. He hasn't been here since Negan and him fought and he walked back to the dorms. As he leads him up the stairs, none of the guys bothers to look twice at them; they must be used to seeing Negan bring someone home. His stomach pings at the thought. He needs to stop thinking this way, because it’s going to drive him insane and there is nothing he can do to change it.

“Here we are,” Negan says and unlocks his door. Carl follows him inside and Negan turns the light on, kicking his boots off his feet and onto the floor. He moves over to his bed and pats the spot next to him.

As Carl walks toward him, his curiosity gets the best of me. “Was Sherry there? At the bowling alley?” He looks out his window as he asks him.

“Yeah, of course she was,” he answers casually. “Why?”

Carl sits down on the soft bed and Negan pulls Carl by his ankles closer to him. Carl laughs and slides closer, his back flat against the bed, putting his knees up and his feet on the other side of Negan’s legs.

“I was just wondering.” Carl tells him and Negan grins.

“She is always going to be around; she’s a part of our group.”

He knows it’s silly of him to be this jealous of her, but she just bothers him. She acts like she likes him, when he knows she doesn’t, and he knows she likes Negan. Now that they are - whatever they are, he doesn't want Sherry near Negan.

“You aren’t like worried that I will fuck her, are you?”

Carl swats his arm at his use of words. He loves the way dirty words sound coming off his lips, but not when she’s involved.

“No, well, maybe. I just know you have before, and I don’t want you to again,” Carl says. He’s sure Negan is going to mock his jealousy, so he turns his head sideways.

His hand goes to Carl’s knee and he squeezes gently. “I wouldn’t do that. Don’t worry about her, okay?” His words are gentle, and Carl believes him.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about us?” He knows he should just shut his mouth, but it has been bothering him.

“I don’t know I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to. Besides, what we do is our business. Not theirs,” he explains. His answer is much better than what was going through Carl’s mind.

“I guess you’re right. I thought maybe you were embarrassed or something?” Carl says slightly perplexed and Negan laughs.

“Why would I possibly be embarrassed by you? Look at you.” His eyes darken and he moves his hand to Carl’s stomach. His fingers tug up Carl’s shirt and he draws circles on his bare skin with his digits. Goose bumps raise Carl’s skin and Negan smiles.

“I love the way your body responds to me,” he breathes. Carl knows what is coming next, and he can’t wait.

  
Negan’s fingers trail farther up Carl’s shirt, causing Carl’s breath to quicken.

A smile creeps onto Negan’s beautiful face as he becomes aware.

“One touch and you’re already panting,” his raspy voice whispers. He leans over, moving Carl’s feet off his lap so that he can bring his mouth to his neck. His tongue makes a flat stripe down Carl’s neck and he quivers. Carl’s fingers thread into his curls and he tugs as Negan nips at his skin. One of Negan’s hands slides down in between Carl’s legs but Carl grabs his wrist to stop him.

“What’s wrong?” Negan asks.

“Nothing. I just thought that I would do something for you this time?”

Carl looks away, but Negan’s fingers cup his chin so Carl is forced to make eye contact with him. Negan tries to hide his smirk, but Carl catches him.

“And what would you like to do for me?”

“Well, I thought I could, you know, what you said the other day?” Carl doesn't know why he’s so shy with words when Negan says anything and everything he is thinking, but the words “blow job” are not in his vocabulary yet.

“You want to suck my cock?” he asks, clearly surprised.

Carl is officially horrified. Yet somehow turned on. “Um, yeah? I mean if you want me to?” He hopes as their relationship progresses he will be able to say these things to him. He would love to be comfortable enough with Negan to be able to feel that sort of bravery, to tell him exactly what he wants to do to him.

“Of course I want you to. I’ve wanted your lips around me since I first saw you.” He’s oddly flattered by Negan’s crude remark, but then he asks, “Are you sure, though? Have you ever even seen someone else’s dick before?”

Carl is sure Negan knows the answer to that; maybe he’s just trying to get him to say it?

“Of course I have. Not a real one, but pictures, and how do you think I found out I was bisexual?” Carl tells him and Negan stifles a laugh. “Stop laughing at me, Negan,” he warns playfully.

“I’m not, baby, I’m sorry. It’s just I have never met anyone who has such little experience. It’s a good thing, though, I swear. Sometimes your innocence just throws me off a bit. But with that being said, it’s a huge turn-on that I'm the only one who has ever made you come, yourself included.” He doesn’t laugh this time, which makes Carl feel better.

“Okay, so let’s get started.”

Negan smiles and runs his thumb along Carl’s cheek. “So sassy, I like it,” he says and stands up.

“Where are you going?” Carl asks him, slightly panicked and Negan smiles.

“Nowhere, I am just taking my pants off.”

“I wanted to do that,” Carl says with a pout and Negan chuckles and tugs his pants back up.

“Here ya go, babe.” He puts his hands on his hips.

Carl smiles and moves forward, pulling Negan’s pants down. Should he pull down his boxers, too? Negan takes a step back and puts his heels against his bed before sitting down. Carl drops to his knees in front of him and Negan takes a deep breath.

“Come closer, babe.”

He scoots closer and place his hands on Negan’s bent knees.

“Are you okay?” he asks carefully.

Carl nods and Negan pulls him up by his elbows.

“Let’s just kiss for a minute, okay?” he suggests and pulls Carl on top of him.

Carl has to admit he’s relieved. He still want to do this, he just need a minute to process, and kissing will make him more comfortable. Negan kisses him, slowly at first, but within seconds the electricity builds and takes over Carl. He grips Negan’s arms hard under his fingertips and rock back and forth on his lap. The bulge in his thin boxers grows and Carl tugs gently on his hair. He wishes he was naked so he could feel Negan against him. He’s shocked by his own thoughts as he reaches down and palms Negan through his boxers.

“Fucking hell, Carl. If you keep doing that, I’ll come in my boxers again,” he moans and Carl stops, climbing off him. He moves to get on his knees again.

“Take your jeans off,” Negan instructs, and Carl nods before unbuttoning them and sliding them down his legs. Feeling brave, he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside. Negan takes his lip between his teeth as Carl moves back down in front of him. His fingers grip the waistband of Negan’s boxers and tugs as he lifts off the bed enough for Carl to pull them down.

Carl can feel his eyes widen and hears himself gasp as Negan’s cock comes into view. Wow, it’s big. Much bigger than he expected. This was a bad idea. Carl resists the urge to back out of this whole idea.

  
He stares for a few seconds until he reaches out and touch it with his index finger. Negan chuckles as it moves slightly but bounces right back. Carl mentally licks his lips, feeling a cock other than his own is completely surreal to him.

“What should I do first?” He asks breathlessly. He’s intimidated by the size of him, but he wants to do this.

“I’ll show you. Here, wrap your fingers like last time.”

Carl fingers go around him and he wiggles them a little. The skin covering him is much softer than and Carl wonder how his cock feels to Negan. He knows he’s poking it and examining it like a science project, but this is so new to him, it almost feels like one. He hasn't even seen a vagina before but he is about to give someone a blow job.

  
Carl grips it lightly and move his hand up and down slowly. “Like this?” He asks, and Negan nods, his chest rising and falling.

“Now, just put your mouth around it. Not all of it, well, if you can, but just put as much as you can.”

Carl takes a deep breath and leans down. Opening his mouth, he takes him in, only about halfway. Negan hisses and his hands move to Carl’s shoulders. He pulls back slightly and tastes something salty. Is that come already? The taste goes away and Carl moves his head up and down. Some instinct that he wasn’t aware of tells him to move his tongue up and down his shaft as he moves.

“Fuck yes, fucking hell. Yeah, like that,” Negan groans and Carl repeats the action. Negan’s grip on his shoulders tightens, and his hips rock upward to meet Carl’s mouth. He pushes himself farther, taking almost all of him in, and look up at him. His eyes are rolled to the back of his head and he looks heavenly. He turns his focus back to sucking and move a little faster.

“Use your hand on . . . on the rest . . .” Negan gasps and Carl obliges. His hand moves up and down on the bottom of him as his mouth works the top. He sucks his cheeks in and Negan groans again.

“Fucking fuck. Carl. I can't fucking… I am so fucking close,” he says, straining, cursing up a storm. “If you don’t want me to come in your mouth then . . . fucking hell . . . you have to stop. Don’t stop… shit unless you want to…”

Carl looks up at him, keeping him in his mouth. He loves the way he is losing control because of him.

“Fuck. Keep looking... at me.” Negan body tenses as he watches Carl. He bats his eyelashes, giving the full effect. Negan curses Carl’s name repeatedly, beautifully, and Carl feels a slight jerk in his mouth and a warm, salty liquid shoots down his throat in short spurts. He gags and pulls back. It didn’t taste as bad as he thought it would, but it definitely doesn’t taste good. His hands move from Carl’s shoulders to his cheeks.

Negan’s out of breath and dazed. “How was it?”

Carl climbs off his knees and sits next to him on the bed. His arms wrap around him and Negan lays his head on Carl’s shoulder. “I thought it was nice,” he says, and Negan laughs.

“Nice?”

“It was fun, sort of. To see you that way. And it didn’t taste as bad as I thought,” He confesses. He should be embarrassed that he just admitted to liking it, but he’s not. “How was it for you?” He asks nervously.

“I was so very pleasantly surprised—the best head I have ever gotten.”

Carl blushes at his words. “Sure it was.” He laughs. He appreciates him trying to make him feel better about his lack of experience.

“No, really. The way you are so fucking pure, it does something to me. And fuck, when you looked up at me—”

“Okay!” Carl cuts him off and wave his hand at him. He doesn't want to relive every detail of his first time doing this. Negan chuckles and gently pushes him back against the mattress.

“Now let me make you feel as good as you did me,” he growls in Carl’s ear and sucks the skin on his neck. Negan’s fingers hook into Carl’s boxers and tug them down. “Do you want suck you off or finger you?” he whispers seductively.

“Both,” Carl answers and Negan smiles.

“As you wish.” He dips his head down. Carl whimpers and tugs at his hair again. He does that a lot to him, but he seems to like it. His back arches off the bed, and within minutes he’s in a completely euphoric state, calling Negan’s name as he comes undone.

After his breathing as slowed, Carl sits up and brings his fingers to trace the dark ink on Negan’s chest. Negan watches him carefully but doesn’t stop him. He stays quiet as he lies down next to Carl, letting him enjoy his sedated state.

“No one has ever touched me this way,” he says, and Carl swallows all the questions he wants to ask him. Instead of interrogating him, Carl gives him a small smile and a quick kiss on his chest.

“Stay with me tonight?” he asks and Carl shakes his head.

“I can’t; tomorrow is Monday and we have classes.” He wants to stay with him but not on a Sunday.

His look is soft. “Please.”

“I don’t have any clothes to wear tomorrow.”

“Wear those; please stay with me. Just one night. I promise you will make it to your classes on time.”

“I don’t know.”

“I will even make sure you get there fifteen minutes early and have enough time to stop by the coffeehouse and meet Enid,” he says and Carl’s lips part.

“How do you know I do that?”

“I watch you. I mean not all the time. But I notice you more than you think,” Negan tells him and Carl’s heart swells.

He’s falling for him, hard and fast.

“I’ll stay,” Carl tells him but holds his hand up to continue. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Come back to Media,” Carl asks, and Negan raises his eyebrow.

“Done.”

Carl smiles at his simple answer and he pulls him closer to his chest.

  
After lying in Negan’s arms for a few minutes, Carl begins to think about his agreement to stay with him tonight.

“What about my shower in the morning?” Carl reminds him.

“You can take one here, down the hall.” His lips meet Carl’s jaw, trailing kisses up and down. His lips on Carl’s skin cause his judgment to cloud; Negan knows exactly what he is doing.

“In a frat house? Who knows who will come in.”

“One, the door locks, and two, I would accompany you, obviously,” Negan says between kisses.

Carl scowls at his tone but decides to ignore it. “Fine. But I’d like to take a shower now, before it gets too late.”

He nods and stands up and reaches for his jeans. Carl climbs off the bed and does the same, leaving his boxers off.

“No boxers?” Negan smirks.

Ignoring him, Carl rolls his eyes and says, “Do you have shampoo? I don’t even have a hairbrush.” He’s starting to get anxious thinking of all the things that he doesn't have with him. “And Q-tips? Dental floss?” He continues.

“Fucking chill, we have Q-tips and floss. We probably even have an extra toothbrush, and I know there is a hairbrush or two in there. There are probably even extra underwear in every size lying about somewhere, if you want some,” Negan informs.

“Underwear?” Carl asks before he realizes Negan means they were left by other people. “Never mind,” Carl shakes his head and Negan laughs. He hopes Negan doesn’t have some weird collection of underwear from people he has slept with.

He leads Carl to the bathroom. He feels more comfortable in here than he imagined, only because he have been in this bathroom quite a few times.

Negan turns on the water and pulls his shirt over his head.

“What are you doing?” Carl asks.

“Taking a shower?”

“Oh, I thought I was taking one first.”

“Take one with me,” he says casually.

“What? No, I won’t.” Carl laughs. He can’t take a shower with him.

“Why not? I’ve already seen you, you have seen me. What’s the big deal?” he groans.

“I don’t know. I just don’t want to.”

“Fine. You go first, then,” Negan says, but his voice has picked up a slight edge.

Carl smiles sweetly and ignores his sour tone and undresses. His eyes scan Carl’s body and then looks away. Carl’s hand reaches behind the curtain to check the temperature of the water and he steps in.

Negan stays silent while Carl wets his hair. Too silent. “Negan?” he calls. Did he leave the bathroom?

“Yeah?”

“I thought maybe you left.”

He pulls back the curtain a little and pops his head in. “Nope, still here.”

“Is something wrong?” Carl asks him, frowning sympathetically. Negan shakes his head in response but doesn’t say anything. Is he really pouting like a child because Carl won’t take a shower with him? He almost wants to tell him to join him, but Carl wants him to get the point that he can’t just get his way all the time. Negan's head disappears from the shower and Carl hears him sit down on the toilet.

The shampoo and body wash are both strong musky scents. Carl miss his misty shampoo, but this is fine for one night. It probably would have made more sense for Negan to stay with in his room, but Noah would be in there, and it would be awkward to explain everything, and Carl doesn't imagine Negan would be as affectionate if Noah was around.

“Could you hand me a towel?” Carl asks him and shuts off the water. “Or two, if you have enough.” He likes to have one for his hair and one for his body.

His hand pushes through the curtain holding two towels. Carl thanks him, and Negan mutters something that he doesn't understand.

He pulls his jeans down as Carl dries off and turns the water back on. His long arms pull back the curtain and Carl can’t help but stare at his naked body. The water sprays onto his dark hair and he closes the curtain. Carl should have taken a shower with him, not because he is pouting, but because now Carl really wants to.

“I’m going to go back to your room,” Carl tells him, figuring he’s ignoring him anyway.

He jerks the curtain back, causing the rings to scrape against the rod. “No, you’re not.”

“Okay, what is your problem?” Carl snaps.

“Nothing, you’re just not going back by yourself. There are a lot people living here, so you don’t need to be wandering the halls.”

“No, there’s something else; you have been pouting since I said you couldn’t take a shower with me.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Tell me why or I'll go out there in this towel,” Carl threatens, knowing he would never actually do it. Negan eyes narrow and he reaches out for Carl’s arm to stop him, splashing water on the floor.

“I just don’t like being told no.” His voice is low but much softer than it was moments ago.

Carl imagines that when it comes to people Negan hardly, if ever, hears the word no. His mind tells him to tell Negan to get used to it, but he hasn't told him no until this point, either. As soon as he touches him, Carl let’s him do whatever he wants.

“Well, I'm not like the other people, Negan,” he says, his jealousy coming forward.

A small smile plays on his lips as the water runs over his face. “I know, Car. I know.” He closes the curtain and Carl pulls his clothes on and Negan turns the water off.

“You can wear some of my clothes to bed,” Negan says and Carl nods. He barely hears him because he is too focused on his glistening body in front of me. He rubs the white towel against his hair, leaving it sticking up all over his head, then wraps the towel around his waist. The towel hangs so low on his hips he looks like pure sex. It feels like the temperature in the bathroom has risen twenty degrees. Bending down to open a cabinet, he pulls out a hairbrush and places it into Carl’s hand.

“Come,” he says and Carl shakes his head, trying to clear the dirty thoughts from his mind. They walk down the hall and turn the corner as a tall brunette guy almost runs into him. Carl looks up at stranger’s face and his bones chill.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he purrs and Carl feels nauseous.

“Negan,” Carl says almost panicking and Negan turns around; it takes him only a moment to remember this is the same guy who tried to make a move on him before.

“Get away from him, Spencer,” he barks and Spencer pales. He must not have seen Negan before he turned the corner. His mistake.

“My bad, Travis,” Spencer says and walks away.

  
Travis? It takes Carl a moment to realize that's Negan’s last name. It's the first time he's has heard it and feels relieved. Negan Travis? He wonders why Negan last name isn't Greene.

“Thanks,” Carl whispers to Negan. He wraps his hand over his and unlocks his door.

“I should just beat the shit out of him, fucking fuck.” Negan whispers angrily as Carl takes a seat on the bed.

“No. Just forget it.” Carl says, hoping he listens to him. Carl can’t tell if he is serious, but he doesn't want to find out. Negan grabs the remote off his dresser and switches the television on before opening the drawer and tossing him a T-shirt and a pair of boxers.

Carl removes his jeans and pulls the boxers on, rolling them a few times at the top.

“Could I maybe wear the shirt you wore today?” He doesn’t realize how weird it sounds until the words are out.

“What?” Negan grins.

“Never mind. I don’t know what I was saying,” Carl lies, clearing his throat. He wants to wear Negan’s dirty shirt because it smells good? That sounds strange and crazy. Negan chuckles and picks the shirt off the floor and walks over to him.

“Here, babe,” he says and hands it to him. Carl’s glad he didn’t embarrass him further, but he still feels a little silly.

“Thanks,” He chirps and pull his own shirt off and then slip Negan’s shirt on. He inhales and finds it smells just as amazing as he knew it would.

Catching this, Negan’s eyes soften as he looks at him. “You’re fucking beautiful,” he says and looks away. Carl gets the feeling he didn’t mean to say the words out loud, which makes his heart swell even more. He smiles at him and takes a step toward him.

“So are you.”

“Enough of that,” Negan says with a laugh as his cheeks flush. “What time do you need to be up in the morning?” he asks and sits on the bed, browsing through the channels.

“Five, but I’ll set my own alarm.”

“Five? Five in the morning? Your first class is at what, nine? Why do you get up so early?”

“I don’t know, just to be prepared, I guess?” Carl rakes the hairbrush through his hair.

“Well, let’s get up at seven; my body doesn’t function before seven,” Negan advises and Carl groans. They are so different from each other.

“Six thirty?” Carl tries to compromise.

“Fine, six thirty,” he agrees.

They spend the rest of the evening watching random television shows before Negan falls asleep with his head on Carl’s lap, his fingers running through Negan’s hair. Carl slides down and lies next to him, trying not to wake him.

“Car?” He groans and his hands move in front of him as if he is reaching for him.

“Here,” Carl whispers from behind him. He turns to his other side and wraps his arm around him before falling back to sleep. He says that he sleeps better when Carl’s around, and he thinks that’s true for him as well.

~O~

The next morning, Carl’s alarm goes off at six thirty and he rushes around to try to put yesterday’s clothes on and get Negan up and dressed. He’s so hard to wake up. He feels flustered and unprepared, but they make it to Carl’s room by seven fifteen, giving him plenty of time to change and brush his hair and teeth again. Noah sleeps through it all, and Carl prevents Negan from pouring a glass of water on Noah’s head to wake him. He’s also really happy that Negan doesn’t make any rude comments as he pulls on one of baggy jeans and a plain blue shirt.

“See, it’s only eight; we have twenty minutes before we have to leave to walk to the coffeehouse,” Negan brags.

“We?”

“Yeah, I thought I would walk with you? If not, that’s cool, too,” he says and looks away.

“Yeah, of course it’s fine.” Carl is just not used to whatever this is that has changed between Negan and him. It will be nice not to have to avoid him, or worry about running into him. What will Enid think? Will they even tell Enid?

“What should we do with our twenty minutes?” Carl smiles.

“I have a few ideas.” Negan’s lips turn to a smirk and he pulls Carl onto him.

“Noah is here,” Carl reminds him as he sucks the skin under his ear.

“I know, we are only kissing,” Negan says, laughing, and he presses his lips to Carl’s.

They leave before Noah wakes, and Negan offers to carry his bag, which is a nice but unexpected gesture.

“Where are your books?” Carl asks him.

“I don’t bring them. I just borrow one every day, in every class. Keeps me from having to carry one of these,” he says and gestures to Carl’s bag on his shoulder. Carl roll his eyes and laughs at him.

When they reach the coffeehouse Enid is leaning against the brick and seems surprised to see Negan and him together. Carl gives her an “I will explain everything later” look and she smiles.

“Well, I better get going, I have classes to sleep through,” Negan says and Carl nods. What should he do, hug him?

But before he can decide, he drops Carl’s bag and hooks his arm around his waist, pulling him to his chest before kissing him. Carl doesn't see this coming. He kisses him back and he releases him.

“See you later,” Negan says with a grin and looks at Enid. This couldn’t be more awkward. Enid’s jaw is practically on the floor and Carl finds himself embarrassed by Negan’s bold move.

“Um, sorry about that.” Carl doesn't really care for public displays of affection. Lydia and him have never done anything like that, except when he tried to kiss her at the mall to get Negan off his mind.

“I have a lot to tell you,” He tells Enid and offers to carry her bag.

  
Enid stays quiet during most of his explanation of his breakup with Lydia and his question about what to call his relationship with Negan, since he thinks they’re dating but they haven’t exactly discussed it with technical terms.

“I know I have already warned you, so I won’t do it again. But please just be careful with him. Though I will admit he seems as infatuated with you as someone like him can be,” Enid says as they take their seats.

It means a lot to him that despite her dislike of Negan she is doing her best to be understanding and supportive.

As he walks into his third class, his Sociology professor waves him over to his podium.

“I just got a call that you should report to the chancellor’s office,” Professor tells him.

What? Why? A million fears seize hold of his mind, and then he remembers that Negan’s father is the chancellor. He relaxes a little, only to have his nerves take over for different reasons.

What could he possibly need? He knows college doesn’t work the same way as high school, but he feels as if he’s getting called down to the principal’s office, only the principal happens to be his... boyfriend’s?... dad.

He pulls his bag onto his shoulder and makes his way across campus to the administration building. It’s a long walk and takes him over a half hour. He gives the secretary at the front desk his name and she quickly picks up the phone. He can’t hear anything except “Dr. Greene.”

“He is ready for you,” she says with a professional smile and points to the wooden door across the hall.

He goes over, but before he can knock, the door creaks open and Herschel greets him with a smile. “Carl, thank you for coming,” he says, guiding him inside, then gestures for him to sit down. He takes a seat in the large swivel chair behind an oversize cherrywood desk. He feels much more intimidated by him in this office than he ever did at his home.

“Sorry for calling you out of class. I didn’t know how else to reach you and you know reaching Negan can be... difficult.”

“It’s okay, really. Is something wrong?” He asks nervously.

“No, not at all. I have a few things to discuss with you. Let’s start with the internship.” He leans forward and puts his hands on the desk. “I’m happy to say that I talked to my friend at The Governor’s, and he would love to meet with you, the sooner the better. If you’re free tomorrow, that would be best,” he says.

“Really!” Carl shrieks, his excitement bringing him to his feet. Feeling awkward to be standing, he hastily sits back down. “That’s so great, thank you so much! You have no idea how much I appreciate it!” He says, shocked. This is such great news, he can’t believe Hershel would do this for him.

“It really is my pleasure, Carl.” He raises his eyebrows with interest. “So, shall I tell him you will come tomorrow?”

He really doesn't want to miss any classes, but this is worth it and he’s ahead anyway. “Yes, that will be great. Thank you again. Wow,” he says and Hershel laughs.

“Now for the second thing, and if you say no, that is perfectly fine. It is more of a personal request, or favor, I suppose. Your internship at The Governor’s will not be affected in any way if you decline,” he says and Carl grows nervous. He nods and Hershel continues. “I am not sure if Negan has told you that Charlotte and I are to be married next weekend.”

“I knew the wedding was coming up. Oh, and congratulations,” Carl says, shocked once again. He didn't know it was that close. His thoughts travel to when Negan crashed their home and drank almost an entire bottle of scotch.

He smiles kindly. “Thank you very much. What I was wondering was if there is any way that you could possibly convince Negan to come.” His eyes leave Carl’s and he stares at the wall. “I know this is overstepping my boundaries here, but I would hate for him not to be there. And honestly, I believe you are the only one who could convince him to show up. I have asked him a few times and he said no immediately.” He lets out a frustrated breath.

Carl has no idea what to say to him. He would love to get Negan to his parent’s wedding, but he doubts he will listen to him. Why does everyone seem to think he will? He remembers when Charlotte told him she believes Negan is in love with him—a thought that’s as absurd as it is untrue.

“I will certainly talk to him. I would love if he went,” Carl tells him in all honesty.

“Really? Thank you so much, Carl. I hope you don’t feel pressured to say yes, though I look forward hopefully to seeing you both there.”

A wedding with Negan? The idea sounds so lovely, but Negan will be hard to convince.

“Charlotte is very fond of you, and she really enjoyed having you over this weekend. You’re welcome anytime.”

“I really enjoyed being there. Maybe I can get in touch with her about those baking lessons she offered.” He laughs and Hershel chuckles, too. He’s so desperate to have a relationship with his angry, broken son that it makes Carl’s heart ache for him. If he can do anything to help Hershel, he certainly will.

“She would love that! Come by anytime,” he booms, and Carl stands up.

“Thank you again for helping me with the internship. It means so much to me.”

“I have looked over your application and transcript, and they are very impressive. Negan could learn a lot from you,” he says with hope in his green eyes.

Carl feels his cheeks heat up as he smiles and says goodbye. By the time he gets back across campus to the Technology building, he has only five minutes until class begins. Negan occupies his old seat and Carl can’t help the smile on his face.

“You held up your end of the deal; so did I,” Negan says and smiles back. Carl greets Enid and take his seat between them.

“Why were you so late?” Negan whispers as the professor begins class.

“I’ll tell you after class.” Carl knows if he brings this up now, he will cause a scene in the middle of class.

“Tell me.”

“I said I’ll tell you after class. It’s no big deal,” Carl promises him. Negan sighs but lets it go.

When class ends, Negan and Enid both stand up and Carl is not sure which one to talk to. He usually talks to Enid after class and they walk out together, but now that Negan is back, he’s unsure.

“Are you still coming to the bonfire with Ron and me on Friday? I was thinking you should come over for dinner first. I know my mom would love it,” Enid says before Negan can speak.

“Yeah, of course I'm still coming. Dinner sounds great; just let me know the details and I’ll be there.”

“I’ll text you,” she says and walks away.

“I’ll text you,” Negan mocks and Carl rolls his eyes.

“Don’t make fun of her,” He warns.

“Oh yeah, I forgot how angry you get. I recall you almost jumping over that booth at Sherry when she did.” He laughs and Carl gives his shoulder a shove.

“I mean it, Negan, leave her alone,” he says, then adds, “Please,” to soften the mood.

“She’s living with our adoptive parent’s. I have earned the right to make fun of her.” He smiles at him and Carl laughs. As they walk out of the building, he decides it’s now or never.

“Speaking of your parent's...” Carl looks over and finds Negan has already tensed up. His eyes are leery as they wait for what Carl will say next. “That’s where I was today. In Hershel’s office. He set up an interview at The Governor's for me tomorrow. Isn’t that great?”

“He what?” he scoffs.

Here they go.

“He set up an interview for me. It’s a great opportunity, Negan.” Carl pleads for his understanding.

“Fine,” he sighs.

“There’s more.”

“Of course there is.”

“He invited me to the wedding next weekend, well, us. He invited us to the wedding.” He barely manages to get it out for the glare Negan’s giving him.

“No, not going. End of discussion.” He turns to walk away from him.

“Wait, just hear me out. Please?” Carl reaches for his wrist but he jerks away.

“No. You really need to stay out of this, Carl. I’m not fucking kidding. Mind your own damn business for once,” he snaps.

“Negan,” He says once more, but Negan ignores him.

He walks off into the parking lot. Carl’s feet have become cement, keeping him from following after him. He watches as his black car peels out of the parking lot. He is overreacting, and Carl is not going to feed into it. Negan needs some time to cool off before they speak again. He knew he wouldn’t want to go, but Carl had hoped Negan would at least discuss it.

Who was he kidding? They only started this “more” thing two days ago. He doesn't know why he keeps expecting things to be so much different. They are, in some ways: Negan is nicer to him mostly, and he kissed him in public, which was really surprising. However, Negan is still essentially Negan, and he is stubborn and has an attitude problem. Sighing, Carl hooks his bag over his shoulder and walks back to his room.

Noah is sitting cross-legged on the floor staring up at his television when Carl enters the room. “Where were you last night? It’s not like you to stay out on a school night, young man,” he teases and Carl rolls his eyes playfully.

“I was out,” He says. He doesn’t know if he should tell him that he stayed with Negan.

“With Negan,” Noah adds for him, and Carl looks away. “I know you were; he asked me for your number, then he left the bowling alley and never came back.” His smile is massive and full of glee for him.

“Don’t tell anyone. I don’t exactly know what is going on myself,” Carl says.

Noah promises to stay mute, and they spend the rest of the afternoon talking about him and Beth before she arrives to pick him up to take him to dinner. He kisses her as soon as she walks through the door, holds her hand while she fixes her dress, and Noah smiles at her the entire time. Why can’t Negan be that way with him?

He hasn't heard anything from Negan in a few hours, but he doesn't want to be the one to text him first. Petty, he knows, but he doesn't care. When Noah and Beth leave, he finishes up his studying and have gathered his things to go take a shower when his phone buzzes. His heart leaps as soon as he sees Negan’s name.

*Stay with me tonight?* the text reads. He hasn’t spoken to him in hours but he wants Carl to stay with him? Again?

*Why? So you can be a jerk to me?* Carl responds. He wants to see him, but he’s still annoyed.

*I’m on my way, be ready*. Carl rolls his eyes at his bossy tone but can’t help but feel excited to see him.

He rushes down and takes a shower so he doesn’t have to take one at Negan’s frat house again. By the time he finishes, he barely has enough time to gather his clothes for tomorrow. He dreads taking the bus all the way to The Governor's , when it’s only a thirty-minute drive, so he renews his resolve to go car shopping again. He’s folding his clothes neatly into his bag when Negan opens the door—without knocking, of course.

“Ready?” he asks and grabs Carl’s bag off the dresser. Carl nods and put his second bag over his shoulder and follows him out. They walk to his car in silence, and Carl finds himself repeating a small prayer that the rest of the night doesn’t go this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going to be wild and is my favorite chapter so far! Thanks for all the comments and kudos!


	9. NINE

Carl stares out the passenger window, not wanting to speak first. After a couple of blocks, Negan turns the radio on and then turns it up too loud. Carl rolls his eyes but tries to ignore it—until he can’t. He hates his taste in music and it gives him an instant headache. Without asking, Carl turns the knob down and Negan looks over at him.

“What?” Carl snaps.

“Fucking hell, someone is in a pissy mood,” he says.

“No, I just didn’t want to listen to that, and if anyone is in a bad mood, it’s you. You were being rude earlier, then you text me and ask me to stay; I don’t get it.”

“I was pissed because you brought up the wedding. Now that it’s settled that we aren’t going there is no need for me to be pissed.” His tone is calm and sure.

“It is not settled—we didn’t even talk about it.”

“Yes, we did. I told you I’m not going, so drop it, Carlton.”

“Well, you may not be going but I am. And I’m going over to your parent’s house to learn to bake with Charlotte this week,” Carl tells him.

Negan clenches his jaw and glares at him. “You’re not going to the wedding, and what—are you and Charlotte like best friends now? You barely even know her.”

“So what if I barely know her? I barely know you,” Carl tells him. Negan’s face falls, and Carl feels bad, but it’s true.

“Why are you being so difficult?” Negan says through gritted teeth.

“Because you aren’t going to tell me what to do, Negan. It’s not happening. If I want to go to the wedding, I will, and I really would like you to come with me. It could be fun—you may even have a nice time. It would mean a lot to your parents, not that you care about that.”

He doesn’t say anything. He lets out a large breath and Carl stares back out the window. The rest of the ride is spent in silence, both of them too angry to speak. When they pull up to the fraternity house, Negan grabs Carl’s bag out of the backseat and puts it over his shoulder.

“Why are you part of a frat, anyway?” Carl asks him. He’s has been wanting to know the answer since he discovered his room the first time.

Negan takes a deep breath as they walk up the steps. “Because, by the time I agreed to come here, the dorms were full—and I sure as hell wasn’t going to live with my adoptive parents—so this was one of the few options I had.”

“But why stay in it?”

“Because I don’t want to live with my family, Carl. Besides, look at this house; it’s nice, and I did get the biggest room.” He smirks a little, and Carl is glad to see his anger is dying down.

“I mean, why don’t you live off campus?” Carl inquires and Negan shrugs. Maybe he doesn’t want to have to get a job.

Carl follows him quietly up to his room and wait as he unlocks the door. What is it with him and his obsession over no one going into his room?

“Why won’t you let anyone in your room?” Carl asks and Negan rolls his eyes. He puts Carl’s bag down on the floor.

“Why do you always ask so many questions?” he groans and sits on the chair.

“I don’t know, why won’t you answer them?” Carl asks, but of course Negan ignores him. “Can I hang up my outfit for tomorrow? I don’t want it to get too wrinkled from being in my bag.”

Negan seems to think about it for a second before he nods and stands to retrieve a hanger from his closet. Carl grabs his slacks and shirt out and puts them on the hanger, ignoring Negan’s sour expression at his clothing.

“I have to get up earlier than usual tomorrow so I can be at the bus station by eight forty-five; the stop three streets over is on the route that gets me two blocks away from The Governor's,” Carl informs him.

“What? You’re going there tomorrow? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did. You were too busy sulking to pay attention,” Carl fires back.

“I will drive you there; you don’t need to take, what’s it, like an hour-long bus ride.”

Carl wants to decline his offer just to annoy him but he decides against it. Negan’s car is a much better way to get there than a crowded bus.

“I’m going to get a car soon; I can’t last any longer without one. If I get the internship, I would have to take the bus there three days a week.”

“I would drive you,” Negan says, his voice almost a whisper.

“I’ll just get my own car,” Carl tells him. “The last thing I need is for you to be mad at me and not pick me up.”

“I would never do that.” His tone is serious.

“Yeah, you would. Then I would be stuck trying to find a bus route. No, thanks,” Carl half-jokes. He honestly feels like he could depend on him, but he don’t want to take any chances. He is just too moody.

Negan turns on the television and stands up to change his clothes, so Carl zeroes in on what he’s doing. No matter how annoyed with him Carl is, he would never turn down a chance to watch him undress. His shirt is pulled over his head first, then Carl watches his muscles contract under his skin as he unbuttons and pulls down his tight black jeans. Just as Carl thinks Negan is going to wear only boxers, he pulls a pair of thin cotton pants out of his dresser and puts them on. He stays shirtless, lucky for Carl.

“Here,” Negan mumbles and hands Carl the shirt he just removed. He can’t help the smile on his face as he takes it in his hands. This must be their thing now; he must like Carl wearing his shirt to bed as much as Carl loves the smell of him on the fabric.

Negan focuses on the television as Carl follows his lead and changes into his shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. The shorts are  made of spandex, but they are comfortable. After he folds his clothes, Negan finally looks at him again. He clears his throat and his eyes rake Carl’s body.

“Those, um, are really sexy.”

Carl flushes. “Thanks.”

“Much better than your Spider-Man pants,” he teases, and Carl laughs while taking a seat on the floor. He feels oddly comfortable in his room. Maybe it’s the graphic novels, or Negan, Carl isn't sure.

“Did you mean it in the car when you said you barely know me?” Negan asks quietly. His question is very unexpected.

“Sort of. You aren’t the easiest person to get to know.”

“I feel like I know you,” he says, his eyes locked onto his.

“Yeah, because I let you. I tell you things about myself.”

“I tell you things, too. It may not seem that way, but you know me better than anyone else does.” He looks down at the floor, then back into Carl’s eyes. He looks sad and vulnerable, such a difference from his usual angry intensity, but equally as captivating.

Carl's not sure what to say to his confession; he feels like he does know Negan on a very personal level, like somehow they connect much deeper than just knowing minuscule bits of information about each other, but it doesn’t feel like nearly enough. Carl still needs to know more.

“You know me better than anyone, too,” Carl tells him. He knows him, the real Carl. Not the Carl that he has to pretend to be around his father (and mother when she was still living with them), or even Lydia. He has told Negan things about his mother’s leaving, his father’s past alcohol problems, and his fears that he has never told anyone else besides Michonne. Negan seems very pleased with this information; a smile covers his beautiful face as he stands from the chair and moves over to him. He takes Carl’s hands into his and pulls him up.

“What do you want to know, Carl?” he asks, and Carl’s heart warms. Negan is finally willing to him more about himself. He’s this much closer to figuring out this complicated and angry, yet sometimes lovely, man.

Negan and him both lie back on the bed, eyes on the ceiling as Carl asks him at least a hundred questions. Negan talks about the place he grew up, Columbia, South Carolina, and how nice it was living there. He talks about the scar on his knee from the first time he learned to play baseball, and how his mother passed out from the blood when he fell and cut his knee. His father was at the bar that day—all day long—so his mother was the one who taught him.

He tells Carl about grade school and how he spent most of his time drawing, playing or watching sports and learning how to fight from one of his mother’s boyfriends at the time. He was never very social, and as he got older, he became an “asshole who curses” a lot. Negan doesn't remember his biological father much, besides the fact he was a real “fuck up”.

He tells Carl about how he got kicked out of secondary school for fighting but his mother begged them to let him back. He began getting tattoos at sixteen; his friend would do them in his basement. The best day of his life was when he learned to drive, and the worst was when his mother almost died from an overdose and how he had to be placed in foster care when he was ten. He met Hershel when when he was twelve when Hershel had just lost his first wife and wanted to build a family. He already had two daughters Maggie and Beth, but he was looking to adopt Enid since Maggie volunteered at the foster care and they knew each other well. Negan thinks Hershel only adopted him because he was the “only teenage boy” left and he wanted to raise a son. Negan didn't get officially adopted into he was seventeen and that's when they left from South Carolina to Georgia.

Carl’s head is swimming with all of this new information and he feels like he finally understands him. There are still many more things he would love to know about him, but he falls asleep while telling Carl about the playhouse made from cardboard boxes that he and his mother and her boyfriend made when he was eight.

As Carl watches him sleep, he appears so much younger now that he knows about his childhood, which seems like it was mostly happy until his father’s absence poisoned it, creating the angry Negan of today.

He leans over and gives the proud rebel a kiss on his cheek before crawling into bed to sleep, too.

Carl doesn't want to wake him, so he pulls the comforter sideways to cover himself up. That night, his dreams are clouded by a raven-haired little boy playing baseball.

“STOP!”

Carl jolts awake at the pained sound of Negan’s voice. He looks around for him, then peer over the bed to see his body jerking on the floor. Carl hurries out of the bed to get down to him and gently shake his shoulders to try to wake him. He remembers how difficult it was the last time, so he leans down on him and wrap his small arms around his shoulders as he tries to thrash away from him. A whimper escapes Negan’s perfect lips and then his eyes shoot open.

“Car,” he gasps and wraps his arms around Carl. He is panting, sweating. Carl should have asked him about the nightmares, but he didn’t want to be greedy; he told him much, much more than he had expected him to.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Carl says to comfort him. Carl pulls his arm, gesturing for him to get up and come to bed. When his eyes meet his, the confusion and fear slowly fade out of them.

“I thought you left,” Negan whispers. They lie down and he pulls Carl as close to him as possible. Carl runs his fingers through Negan’s damp and straight hair, and Negan’s eyes flutter closed.

Carl doesn't say anything. He just continues to rub his scalp to calm him.

“Don’t ever leave me, Carl,” he whispers and falls back into sleep. Carl’s heart nearly explodes at his plea, and he knows that as long as Negan wants him here, he’s here.

~O~

The next morning Carl wakes up before Negan and manages to roll him off and untangle their legs without waking him. The memory of Negan saying his name in relief and all the secrets about himself he disclosed makes Carl’s stomach flutter. Negan was so unguarded and open last night, it made Carl care for him even more. The depth of his feelings for him scares Carl and he feels like he can tell they’re there, but he’s not really ready to face them yet. He peels off his shirt and grabs a hair brush and walks down to the bathroom.

The hallway is empty, and no one knocks on the door while he gets ready. He’s not as lucky as he makes his way back to Negan’s room. Three people come down the hall in his direction, one of them Tara.

“Hey, Carl!” She chirps and flashes him her perfect smile.

“Hey, how are you?” He feels awkward with the three of them staring at him.

“Good, just on our way out. Are you like moving in here or something?” She says, and laughs.

“No, definitely not. Just visiting.” He has no clue what to say. A tall guy bends down and whispers something into Tara’s ear. He can’t make out what he says, but Carl looks away. “Well, I will see you guys later,” he says.

“Yeah, see you tonight at the party,” Tara says and walks away.

What party? Why wouldn’t Negan mention a party to him? Maybe he doesn’t plan on being there? Or maybe he doesn’t want you to come, his subconscious adds. Who throws a party on a Tuesday, anyway?

When he reaches Negan’s door, it opens before he reaches the handle.

“Where were you?” Negan says and opens it wide enough for Carl to walk in.

“Freshing up. I wanted to let you sleep,” Carl tells him.

“I told you not to be wandering the halls, Carl,” he scolds.

“And I told you not to boss me around, Negan,” Carl adds sarcastically, and Negan’s features soften.

“Touché.” He laughs and steps closer to Carl. He places one of his hands on the small of Carl’s back and puts the other on Carl’s stomach. His fingers are rough with calluses but glide gently on Carl’s skin, moving higher and higher on his stomach.

“However, you really should wear a shirt when you’re roaming the halls of a fraternity house, Carlton.” He brings his mouth to Carl’s ear at the exact moment that his fingers find his nipples. He rubs over the sensitive area with his thumbs, making them harden under his touch. Negan sucks in a sharp breath, and Carl is frozen but his heart is racing. “You never know what kind of perverts are lurking in the halls,” he says softly into Carl’s ear.

His thumbs swirl around his nipples again, before he pinches them lightly. Carl’s head falls to his chest and he’s unable to control his moans as Negan fingers continue their gentle assault.

“I bet I could make you come just by doing this,” he says and applies more pressure.

Carl had no idea that this could feel this good. He nods and Negan chuckles, his mouth against Carl’s ear. “Do you want me to do that? Make you come?” he asks and Carl nods again. Does he even have to ask? His heavy breathing and shaky knees should give it away.

“Good boy, now let’s move to the—” he begins when the alarm on Carl’s cell phone goes off.

He snaps to attention. “Shit! We have to leave in ten minutes, Negan, and you’re not even dressed. I’m not even dressed!”

He pulls away, but Negan shakes his head and pulls Carl back to him, this time pulling his shorts and boxers down his legs. Negan reaches over and shuts Carl’s phone off.

“I only need two minutes; that leaves eight to get dressed.” He lifts Carl off the floor, taking him over to the bed. Negan sits him down on it, kneels in front of him, and pulls him by the ankles to the edge. “Spread your legs, baby,” he coos, and Carl obliges.

Carl knows this wasn’t on his schedule for this morning, but he can’t think of a better way to start his day. Negan's long finger traces up his thighs and he holds him down with one hand. His head dips down and he licks up and down Carl’s shaft once before puckering his lips and sucking.

His hips buck off the bed and Negan pushes him back down and continues to hold. Using his other hand, he inserts a finger into Carl, pumping faster than ever before. He can’t decide if his hands or his sucking feels better, but the combination is mind-blowing. Within seconds he feels that burn in the pit of his stomach and Negan pumps his finger faster.

“I’m going to try two, okay?” he says and Carl moans in approval. The feeling is strange and a little uncomfortable, like the first time he slipped his one finger inside him, but when Negan places his lips back on his cock and sucks again, Carl forgets about the subtle pain. He whimpers as Negan removes his mouth once more.

“Shit, you’re so tight, baby.” His words alone are going to sends Carl over the edge. “You okay?” he asks.

Carl grabs him by his har and pushes his face down. Negan chuckles and then attaches his lips again. Carl moans his name and pulls his hair as he experiences the strongest orgasm ever. Not that he has had many, but this one was definitely the quickest and strongest.

Negan places a small kiss on his hipbone before standing and walking to the closet. Carl lifts his head and tries to catch his breath. Negan walks back over and wipes Carl off with a T-shirt, which might be more embarrassing if Carl were fully coherent.

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to brush my teeth.” Negan smiles and exits the room. Carl stands up and gets himself dressed and checks the time. They have three minutes until they have to leave. When Negan returns, he quickly gets dressed and they’re gone.

“Do you know how to get there?” Carl asks as he pulls out of the driveway.

“Yeah, my adoptive father’s best friend from university is Phillip Blake,” Negan tells him. “I’ve been there a couple of times.”

“Wow.” He knew Hershel had a connection there, but he didn’t know the CEO was his best friend.

“Don’t worry, he’s a nice guy. A bit of a square but nice; you’ll fit right in.” Negan’s smile is contagious. “You look great, by the way.”

“Thank you. You seem to be in a good mood this morning,” Carl says teasingly.

“Yeah, having sucking you off this early in the morning seems like an omen for a good day.” Negan laughs and takes Carl's hand in his.

“Negan!” Carl scolds him, but Negan only laughs once more.

The drive goes quickly, and in no time their pulling around back of a six-story building with mirrored glass sides and a large G placed on the front.

“I’m nervous,” Carl admits as he checks himself in the mirror.

“Don’t be; you will do fine. You’re so smart, and he’ll see that,” Negan assures with another blindingly smile.

God, Carl loves when he is nice like this.

“Thank you,” Carl says and leans across to kiss him. It is a sweet and simple kiss.

“I’ll be in the car waiting for you,” he says and kisses Carl again.

The inside of the building is just as elegant as the outside. When Carl reaches the front desk, he’s given a day pass and instructed to go to the sixth floor. He reaches the desk on the sixth floor and gives the young man his name.

He flashes his perfect white smile at me before walking me to a large office and saying, “Mr. Blake, Carlton Grimes is here,” to a middle-aged man with clean shaved face he can see through the doorway.

Mr. Blake waves him in and walks toward him to shake his hand. His green eyes can be seen from across the room and his smile is comforting and relaxes Carl as he tells him to have a seat.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Carlton. Thank you for coming,” he says.

“Carl, call me Carl. Thank you for having me,” he says with a smile.

“So, Carl, you are a freshman video design and gaming major?” he asks.

“Yes, sir,” Carl says, nodding.

“Hershel Greene gave you a great recommendation, says I would be missing out if I didn’t give you an internship.”

“Hershel is a very kind man,” Carl says and Mr. Blake nods, rubbing his chin with his fingers.

He asks Carl to tell him what he’s been reading of late and who are his favorite and least favorite graphic illustrators, and to explain why he feels that way. He nods and hmms through Carl’s explanation, and when he finishes, Mr. Blake smiles.

“Well, Carl, when can you begin? Hershel says with your courses it’s easy enough to condense your schedule so you can be here two days a week and take classes on campus the other three,” he says and Carl mouth falls open.

“Really?” is all he can say. This is beyond his expectations. He had assumed he would have to take night classes and come here during the day, if he got the offer.

“Yes, and you will also receive credit hours toward your degree for your time spent here.”

“Thank you so much. This is such an amazing opportunity, thank you, thank you again.” He can’t believe how lucky he is.

“We will discuss your pay Monday when you start.”

“Pay?” He had assumed it would be an unpaid internship.

“Yes, of course you will be paid for your time.” He smiles.

Carl just nods, afraid that if he opens his mouth he will thank him for the thousandth time.

 

~O~

He practically runs to the car and Negan climbs out as he nears it.

“Well?” he asks and Carl elevates.

“I got it! It’s paid and I’ll be here two days a week and in school three days—and I get college credit—and he was so nice—and your dad is wonderful for doing this for me—and you are, too, of course. I’m just so excited and I guess that’s it.” Carl laughs and Negan wraps his arms around him, squeezing him tight and lifting him into the air.

“I’m so happy for you,” Negan says and Carl buries his fingers in his hair.

“Thank you,” Carl says and Negan puts him down. “Really, thank you for driving me and waiting in the car.”

Negan assures him that it’s no problem, and as they both climb into the car he asks, “What do you want to do for the rest of the afternoon?”

“Go back to school, of course; we can still make it to Media.”

“Really? I bet we could find something much more fun to do.”

“No, I’ve already missed too many classes this week; I don’t want to miss any more. I’m going to Media, and so should you.” He smiles.

Negan rolls his eyes but nods in agreement.

They make it just in time for class and he gushed to Enid about the internship. She congratulates him and gives him a tight hug. Negan rudely makes gagging noises behind them and Carl kicks back at his leg.

After class Negan walks out with Enid and him as they discuss the details of the bonfire this Friday. He agrees to meet Enid at her house at five for dinner and then they will go to the bonfire at seven. Negan stays quiet during their discussion, and Carl wonders if Negan will accompany him. Negan said at one point he would go, but Carl is pretty sure that was only to compete with Dwight. Enid says her goodbyes as they reach the parking lot and walks off, whistling.

“Travis!” someone calls. They both turn around to see Simon and Sherry walking toward them. Great, Sherry. She is wearing a tank top and a red leather skirt. It’s only Tuesday and she’s already almost used up her skank quota for the week. She should save that stuff for the weekends.

“Hey,” Negan says and takes a step away from Carl.

“Hey, Carl,” Sherry says in return.

  
He returns her greeting and stands awkwardly as Negan and Simon exchange hellos.

“You’re ready, right?” Simon asks him, and it becomes clear that Negan told them to meet him here. Carl doesn't know why he had assumed they would hang out again; it’s not like they can spend everyday together, but he could have said something.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Negan tells them and looks at him. “See you around, Carl,” he casually says and walks off with them. Sherry looks back at Carl with a smirk on her makeup-covered face as she climbs into the passenger seat of Negan’s car and Simon gets in back.

And Carl stands on the pavement and wonders what the hell just happened.

~O~

During Carl’s walk back to his room he realizes how foolish he had been, expecting Negan to be different than before. He should have known better. He should have known that this was too good to be true. Negan kissing him in front of Enid, Negan being nice and wanting “more.”

Negan telling Carl about his childhood. He should have known that as soon as his friends came along he would go right back to the Negan that up until two weeks ago he despised.

“Hey, Carl. You coming tonight?” Beth asks as Carl walks into his room. Noah is sitting on his bed staring at her in the adoring way he wishes Negan would stare at him.

“No, I’m going to study,” he says. It’s nice to know that everyone was invited, yet Negan didn’t see fit to even mention the party to Carl. Probably so he could hang out with Sherry without any distractions.

“Oh come on! It will be fun. Negan will be there.” She smiles and Carl forces one back to her.

“Really, it’s okay. I need to call my father and catch up with him and Michonne and plan my assignments for next week.”

“Laaaame!” Beth teases and grabs her purse. “Suit yourself. I’ll be out all night, so if you need anything let Noah know,” she says and hugs him goodbye, Noah following behind her.

Carl calls his father and tells him about his internship, and of course he is beyond pleased by his amazing opportunity. He leaves Negan out of the explanation, but he does mention Hershel, though he shifts around pieces of the story. He asks about Lydia and him, but Carl dodges his questions. He’s surprised and grateful to find that Lydia hasn’t told his family everything. She doesn’t owe him anything, but he’s thankful for her omission. After listening to him talk for far too long about his new partner, who he believes is having an affair with his boss, Carl finally tells him he really needs to study and he gets off the phone.

Immediately, his mind goes back to Negan, as always. His life was much more simple before he met Negan, and now after it’s complicated and stressful, and he’s either extremely happy or there is this burning in his chest when he thinks of Negan with Sherry.

He will go insane if he just sits here, and it’s only six o’clock by the time he gives up trying to study. Maybe he should go for a walk? He really needs some more friends. He grabs his phone and calls Enid.

“Hey, Carl!” Her voice is friendly and soothes some of his anxiety.

“Hey, Enid, are you busy?” He asks, praying that she isn't.

“No, just reading a book. Why, is something wrong?”

“No, I was just wondering if maybe I could come over and hang out or maybe if your mom doesn’t mind I could take her up on those baking lessons.” He lets out a weak laugh.

“Yeah, of course. She would love that—I’ll let her know you’re coming.”

“Okay, the next bus isn’t for thirty minutes, but I will be there as soon as I can,” He tells her.

“Bus? Oh yeah, I forgot you haven’t found a car. I will come get you.”

“No, really, it’s okay. I don’t mind, I don’t want you to go out of your way.”

“Carl, it’s less than ten miles. I’ll leave now,” she says and he finally agrees.

He grabs his bag and checks his phone one last time. Of course Negan hasn’t texted or called him. He hates the way he feels dependent on him, especially when he obviously can’t depend on him.

Determined to be independent, he turns his phone off. If he leaves it on, he will go crazy checking it every few minutes. Figuring that he really should just leave it here, he puts it in the top drawer of his dresser before he goes out to wait for Enid to pick him up.

Minutes later she pulls up and honks lightly. He jumps off the curb in surprise and they both laugh as he climbs into the car.

“My mother is going insane in the kitchen right now, so be prepared for a very detailed baking lesson,” she says.

“Really? I love the details. It make great story.”

“I know you do—we’re alike that way,” she says and turns on the radio.

He hears the familiar sound of one of my favorite songs. “Can I turn this up?” He asks and she nods.

“You like Fall Out Boy?” She asks in a surprised tone.

“Yes! They’re one of my favorites —I love them. Do you like them?”

“Yes! Who doesn’t?” She laughs. He almost tells her Negan doesn’t, but then decides against it.

When they arrive at the house, Hershel greets them at the door with a friendly smile. He hopes he wasn’t expecting Negan to be with him, but seeing no disappointment on his face, Carl smiles back.

“Charlotte is in the kitchen; enter at your own risk,” he says mischievously.

He wasn’t joking. Charlotte has the entire large island covered in pans, mixing bowls, and a lot of other things Carl doesn't recognize.

“Carl! I’m just getting everything ready!” She’s beaming as she makes a hand gesture to highlight all the strange equipment.

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

“No, not at the moment. I'm almost finished - there, I’m done.”

“I hope it wasn’t too late notice for me to come by,” he says.

“Oh no, honey, you’re always welcome here,” she assures him and he can tell she means it.

She hands him an apron to wear and he pulls his hair back. Enid sits on the bench and talks to them for a few minutes while Charlotte shows him all the ingredients used to make cupcakes from scratch. He pours them into the mixer and turns it on low speed.

“I already feel like a professional baker.” He laughs and Enid leans across, wiping her hand across his cheek.

“Sorry, you have some flour on your face.” Her cheeks flush and Carl smiles.

He starts pouring his cupcake batter into the baking pan. When they put them in the oven and start talking about school and home, Enid leaves and goes to the other room to finish watching a game she’s recorded.

They get lost in conversation while their creations bake and cool, and when she says it’s time to ice the cupcakes, Carl looks at them and is really pleased with the way his turned out. Charlotte shows him how to use the piping bag to make an E on the top of one of them, and he sets it aside for Enid. Charlotte expertly pipes flowers and green blades of grass onto her cupcakes while Carl does the best he can with his.

“I think it’s cookies next time.” She smiles and places the cupcakes in a serving case.

“Sounds good to me,” He tells her and takes a bite of one of his cupcakes.

As Charlotte adjusts the case of sweets, she asks, “And where’s Negan tonight?”

Carl chews his cake slowly, trying to discern a motive behind her asking. “He’s at his house,” he answers simply. She frowns slightly but doesn’t push it.

Enid wanders back into the kitchen and Charlotte leaves the room to take a few cupcakes to Hershel.

“Is this cupcake for me?” Enid asks and holds up the cupcake with the squiggly E written in icing.

“Yeah, I have to work on my piping skills.”

She takes a big bite. “The important part is it tastes good,” she says with a full mouth. Carl laughs and she wipes her mouth.

He eats another cupcake and Enid talks about the game, which Carl doesn't really care about, but she’s nice, so he pretends to listen. His mind travels to Negan again and he stares out the window.

“Are you okay?” Enid pulls me out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I was paying attention at first.” He smiles apologetically.

“It’s all right. Is it Negan?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?” He asks.

“Where is he?”

“The frat house. There’s some party tonight,” He starts, and then decides to confide in her. “And he didn’t tell me about it. He had his friends meet him and he just said, ‘See you around, Carl.’ I feel like an idiot even repeating this, I know how stupid I sound, but it’s driving me crazy. That girl Sherry, he used to mess around with her all the time and she’s with him now, and he didn’t tell them we are… whatever we are.” Carl lets out a heavy sigh.

“Aren’t you two supposed to be dating?” Enid asks.

“Yeah, well, I thought so but I don’t know now.”

“Why don’t you try to talk to him? Or go to the party?”

He just looks at her. “I can’t just go to the party.”

“Why not? You’ve been to their parties before, and you and Negan are sort of dating, or whatever this is, and your roommate will be there. I would go if I was you.”

“Really? Beth did invite me… I don’t know.”

Carl wants to go just to see if Negan is with Sherry but he feels stupid just showing up there.

“I think you should.”

“Will you come with me?” He asks.

“Oh no, no. Sorry, Carl. We’re friends but no-ho-ho.”

Carl knew she wouldn’t but it was worth asking. “I think I will go. At least to talk to him.”

“Good. Just wipe the flour off your face first.”

She laughs and Carl gently pushes her arm. He stays a little while longer to hang out with Enix; he doesn't want her to think he was just using her for a roundabout ride to the party, even though he knows she doesn’t think that.

~O|

 

“Good luck! Call me if you need me,” she says as he gets out of the car in front of the frat house. After she drives away he thinks of the irony of him leaving his phone in hus room to avoid worrying about Negan, and yet here he is showing up at his house.

A group of scantily clad girls are standing in the yard, causing him to look down at his outfit: jeans and a cardigan. What the hell was he thinking coming here?

He swallows his anxiety and walks inside. He doesn't see any familiar faces except Tara, who’s doing a body shot off a girl wearing only a bra and panties. He walks through the kitchen and someone hands him a red cup full of alcohol, which he puts to his lips. If he's going to confront Negan, he needs alcohol. He pushes his way through the crowded living room to the couch that their group usually hangs out on. Between bodies and over shoulders, Sherry comes into view... 

And Carl feels sick as he notices she isn’t sitting on the couch, but on Negan's lap. His hand is on her thigh and she leans back against him, laughing among her friends like this is the most normal thing in the world.

How did Carl get myself in this situation with Negan? He should have stayed away from him. He knew it then and he’s slapped in the face with it now. He should just leave. He doesn't belong here, and he doesn't want to cry in front of these people again.

He’s sick of crying over Negan, and he’s done trying to make him something he isn’t. Every time he thinks he feels as low as he can, Negan does something else that makes him realize he previously had no idea of the real pain that unrequited feelings can cause. He watches as Sherry puts her hand over Negan’s; he moves his away, only to put it on her hip, giving her a playful squeeze and she giggles.

Carl tries to force himself to move, to back up, to run, to crawl, to do anything to get him out of here, but his eyes are locked on the boy he was falling for while Negan’s eyes are locked on her.

“Carl!” someone calls. Negan’s head snaps up and his hazel eyes meet his. They are wide with shock, and Sherry looks his way, then leans farther onto Negan. His lips part as if he is going to say something, but he doesn’t.

  
Dwight appears at his side and he finally forces his eyes from Negan’s. He tries to muster a smile for him, but all of his energy is being used to prevent himself from bursting into tears.

“Do you want a drink?” Dwight asks and he looks down. He was holding a cup of beer, wasn’t he?

At his feet is his cup, the beer spilled across the carpet. He takes a step away from it; he normally would clean it up and apologize, but right now he would rather just pretend it wasn’t his. It’s so crowded in here, nobody will know.

Carl has two options: he can run out of here in tears and let Negan know he got the best of him, or he can put on a brave face and act like he doesn’t care about him and the way he is still holding Sherry on his lap.

He decides to go with option two.

“Yes, please. I’d love a drink,” he says, his voice strained.

~O~

Carl follows Dwight to the kitchen, mentally psyching himself up so he can get through this party. He wanted to go over and curse Negan out, tell him to never speak to him again, slap him and rip Sherry’s hair out of her head. However, Negan would probably just smirk the whole time, so instead he decides to gulp down the entire cherry vodka sour that Dwight makes him and asks for another. Negan has ruined too many of his nights, and he refuses to be that guy.

Dwight makes him another sour, but when he holds his cup out again a couple of minutes later, Dwight laughs and holds up his hands. “Whoa, slow down, killer. You already drank two!”

“It just tastes really good.” Carl laughs and licks the remaining cherry flavor off his lips.

“Well, let’s just take it slow on this one, yeah?”

When he agrees, Dwight mixes him up another one and then says, “I think we are about to play another round of Truth or Dare.”

What is with these guys and their annoying games of Truth or Dare? He thought people stopped playing those ridiculous games when they were in high school. The pain in his chest returns as his mind goes over all the things Negan and Sherry may have already been dared to do tonight.

“What did I miss during the last round?” He asks him with the best flirty smile he can manage. He probably look insane, but Dwight smiles back, so it seems to work.

“Just some drunk people sucking face, the usual.” He shrugs. The lump in Carl’s throat rises but he swallows it back down with his drink. He gives a fake laugh and continues to drink out of his cup as they make their way back to the others. Dwight takes a seat on the floor diagonally from Negan and Sherry’s spot on the couch, and Carl sits down next to him, closer than he usually would, but that’s the point. Part of him had assumed Negan would have gotten Sherry off his lap by now, but he hasn’t. So Carl leans in a little closer yet to Dwight.

Negan’s eyes draw to slits, but Carl ignores him. Sherry is still perched on his lap like the whore she is, and Noah gives him a sympathetic smile and glances toward Negan. The vodka is beginning to take its effect as Simon’s turn comes around.

“Truth or dare?” Beth asks.

“Truth,” he answers, and she rolls her eyes.

“Pussy.” Her colorful language never ceases to surprise Carl. “Okay. Is it true that you pissed in Noah’s closet last weekend?” she asks and they all start laughing except him. He has no clue what they are talking about.

“No! I already told you guys that wasn’t me!” he groans, making everyone laugh harder. Dwight looks over and winks at Carl in the middle of the uproar.

  
“Carl, you playing?” Noah asks and Carl nods. He looks up at Negan, who is staring at him. Carl smiles at him, then looks back at Dwight. The frown on Negan’s face takes a little pressure off his chest. He should feel as terrible as he does.

“Okay, truth or dare?” Sherry asks.

Of course she would be the one to ask him.

“Dare,” he bravely says. God knows what she will have him do.

“I dare you to kiss Dwight.” A few gasps and chuckles are heard.

“We already know how he feels about kissing people; pick something else,” Negan says through his teeth.

“Actually, it’s fine.”

Negan wants to play, they can play.

“I don’t think—” Negan starts to say.

“Shut up, Negan,” Beth says and gives Carl an encouraging smile.

He can’t believe he agreed to kiss Dwight. He has only really kissed Lydia and Negan; he figures Patrick from elementary school doesn’t count, especially since he tasted like glue.

“You sure?” Dwight asks. He’s trying to act concerned but Carl can see the excitement in his thin features.

“Yeah, I'm sure.” Carl takes another drink, forcing himself not to look up at Negan, lest he changes his mind. Everyone’s eyes are on them as Dwight licks his lips and leans in to kiss him. His lips are cold from his drink and Carl can taste the sweetness of the cherry juice on his tongue. His lips are soft, yet hard against his, and his tongue moves expertly with his. Carl feels the heat rising in his stomach, not nearly as hot as with Negan, but it feels so good that when Dwight’s hands move to his waist, they both move up to our knees—

“Fucking hell, damn. Sherry said kiss, not fuck in front of everyone,” Negan says and Sherry tells him to shut up.

Carl lets his eyes go over to Negan, and he looks mad, beyond mad. But he brought this upon himself.

Carl pulls away from Dwight and feels his cheeks flush as everyone stares at them. Noah gives him a thumbs-up, but Carl looks at the ground. Dwight looks very pleased and Carl feels embarrassed but thrilled with Negan’s reaction.

“Carl, your turn to ask Noah,” Dwight says. Noah chooses dare, so Carl gives him the least creative dare and has him take a shot.

“Dwight, truth or dare?” Noah asks as he chases his shot.

Carl downs the rest of his drink, and the more he drinks, the more numb his emotions become.

“Dare,” Dwight answers, and Beth whispers something in Noah’s ear that makes him grin.

“I dare you to take Carl upstairs for ten minutes,” Noah says, and Carl chokes on his breath. This is too much.

“That’s a good one!” Sherry says and laughs at Carl’s expense.

Dwight looks at him as if asking him if he's okay with it. Without thinking, Carl stands up and grabs Dwight’s hand. He looks as surprised as everyone else, but he stands up, too.

“This isn’t part of Truth or Dare, this is, well, it’s fucking dumb,” Negan says.

“Why does it matter? They are both single and it’s all in good fun, so why do you care?” Sherry asks him.

“I don’t fucking care. I just think it’s stupid,” Negan answers and Carl’s chest hurts again. Negan obviously had no plan to tell any of his friends that they are... were... whatever they were. He has been using Carl this entire time, he’s just another warm body to him and he was foolish, beyond foolish, to think otherwise.

“Well, good thing it’s none of your business, Negan,” Carl snaps and pulls Dwight by the hand.

“Burn!” “Damn!” Carl hears a few voices say, and Negan swears at them as Dwight and him walk away. They find a random bedroom at the top of the stairs and Dwight pulls the door open and turns the light on.

Now that he’s away from Negan, he begins to feel much more nervous being alone with Dwight. No matter how angry he is, he doesn't want to mess around with Dwight. Well, he wouldn’t say he doesn't want to, but he knows he shouldn’t. He’s not that type of person.

“So what do you want to do?” Carl inquiries.

Dwight chuckles a little and leads him to the bed. Oh Lord.

“Let’s just talk, okay?” he says and Carl nods and looks down at the floor. “Not that I wouldn’t love to do many other things with you, but you’re intoxicated and I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Carl gasps.

“Surprised?” He beams and Carl laughs.

“A little,” He admits.

“Why? I’m not a jerk, like Negan,” he says and Carl looks away again. “You know, I thought you and Negan had something going on for a little bit.”

“No. We are just, well, we were friends, but not anymore.” He doesn't want to admit how stupid he was for believing Negan’s lies.

“So are you still seeing your girlfriend from high school?” he asks.

Relieved not to be talking about Negan, he relaxes and says, “No, we broke up.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. She was a lucky girl,” he says with a sweet smile.

Dwight is so charming. Carl finds himself staring into his blue eyes; his eyelashes are fuller than his. “Thanks.”

“Maybe I could take you out sometime? On a proper date? Like, not into a bedroom at a frat party,” he says, then chuckles nervously.

“Um.” He doesn't know what to say.

“How about I ask again tomorrow when you’re sober?” He is much nicer than Carl thought he would be. Usually guys as like him are jerks like Negan.

“Deal.”

He takes Carl’s hand again. “All right then! Let’s go back down.”

When they walk back downstairs, Negan and Sherry are still on the couch, but Negan now has a drink and Sherry has moved so her legs are draped over him from the side. When Negan’s eyes dart down to where Carl’s hand is intertwined with Dwight’s, he jerks away without thinking, but then grabs it again quickly. Negan clenches his jaw and Carl looks away into the crowd of partiers.

“How was it?” Sherry smirks.

“Fun,” Carl answers and Dwight stays quiet. Carl will thank him later for not correcting him.

“It’s Sherry’s turn,” Simon announces as they sit back on the floor.

“Truth or dare?” Negan asks her.

“Dare, of course.”

And Negan looks right into Carl’s eyes and says, “I dare you to kiss me.”

Carl’s heart stops, literally. It stops beating; he is a bigger asshole than he ever imagined. His ears are swimming and his heart is pounding as Sherry shoots a boastful glance his way before she latches herself to Negan. All the anger he feels toward Negan is washed away and replaced by hurt, all-consuming hurt and the feel of hot tears on his face. He can’t watch anymore, he just can’t.

Within seconds, he’s on his feet and pushing through the drunk crowd. He hears Dwight and Noah both call after him, but the room feels like it’s spinning and when he closes his eyes all he can see is Sherry and Negan. Knocking into people and not looking back, Carl finally reaches the door and the fresh air outside fills his lungs and brings him back to reality.

How could he be so cruel? He runs down the stairs on the sidewalk. He has to get away from here. He wishes he had never met him, he wishes he had a different roommate. He even wishes he never came to GSU.

“Carl!” He hears and he turns around, convinced he is imagining it until he sees Negan running after him.

  
Carl has never been very athletic, but his adrenaline is in full effect and he pushes his legs to go faster. He reaches the end of the street, but begins to tire. Where the hell is he going to go? He doesn't remember the path that he walked back to his dorm last time, and he stupidly left his phone in his room. To prove a point. About my independence from Negan.

Negan, who’s chasing him and yelling, “Carl, stop!”

And he does stop. He stops dead in his tracks. Why is he even running from him? He needs to explain why he keeps playing games with him.

“What did Dwight say to you?”

What? When Carl turns around to face him, Negan is only a few feet away and has a shocked expression; he didn’t actually expect he would stop.

“What, Negan! What could you possibly want from me?” He screams. His heart is pounding from running, and from Negan’s breaking it.

“I...” He seems to be at a loss for words for once. “Did Dwight say something to you?”

“No, why would he?” Carl takes another step forward so he is face-to-face with him, his anger rolling off him in waves.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he says quietly. He looks into Carl’s eyes and reaches his hand out to take his, but Carl swats it away. He ignores his question about Dwight but he is too mad to care.

 “You’re sorry? You’re sorry?” Carl repeats, his voice coming out in a laugh.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Go to hell, Negan.” He begins to walk away, but he grabs his arm again. His anger boils over and Carl’s hand flies up and smacks him, hard. He’s so surprised by his own violence as Negan is, and he almost wants to apologize for hitting him, but the pain he has caused him is so much more than a cuff on the cheek.

Negan’s hand moves to his face, slowly rubbing over the red skin of his cheek. He looks at Carl, anger and confusion stirring behind his eyes.

“What the hell is your problem? You were the one kissing Dwight!” he yells. A car passes and the driver stares but Carl ignores him. He doesn't care about causing a scene right now.

“You’re not seriously trying to blame me! You lied to me and played me like a fool, Negan! Just when I thought I could trust you, you humiliate me! If you wanted to be with Sherry, why not just tell me to leave you alone? No, instead, you feed me that bullshit about wanting more and beg me to stay the night with you just so you can use me! What was the point—what did you get out of it—oh, besides a blow job?” He screams. The word tastes odd coming out of his mouth.

“What? You think that’s what I'm doing? You think I’m using you?” he shouts.

“No, that’s not what I think, Negan—that’s what I know. But guess what? I’m done, I'm so beyond done. I will change dorms if I have to so I don’t have to see you again!” He says, and means it. He doesn't need any of these people making his life worse.

“You’re overreacting,” Negan says flatly, and it takes everything in Carl not to slap him again.

“I’m overreacting? You didn’t tell your friends about us—you didn’t tell me about this party, and then you left me standing in the parking lot like a dumbass while you left with Sherry, of all people! Then I show up here to find Sherry on your lap, and then you kiss her. Right in front of me, Negan. I’d say my reaction is quite justified,” he says, his voice drawing to a whisper at the end, exhausted. He wipes fresh tears from his face and blinks up at the night sky.

“You kissed Dwight right in front of me! And I didn’t tell you about the party because I don’t have to! You wouldn’t have wanted to come anyway—you would have been too busy studying or watching the damn paint dry,” Negan shouts.

Carl looks at his blurry form through his watery eyes and asks him simply, “So why even waste your time with me? Why even follow me out here, Negan?” When he doesn’t say anything, Carl has his answer. “That’s what I thought. You thought you could come out here and say sorry and I would accept and stay a secret, your boring little hidden boyfriend. You’re wrong; you took my kindness for weakness and you were sadly mistaken.”

“Boyfriend? You thought you were my fucking boyfriend? Now that is fucking hilarious!” Negan says, laughing, being the cruel person he is.

The pain in Carl’s chest is magnified by a thousand and he can barely stand. “No - I,” he starts to say. He doesn't know what to say.

“You did, didn’t you?” he says, still laughing, his shoulders shaking.

“You know what? Yes, I did,” Carl admits. He’s already humiliated, so he has nothing to lose. “You fed me that bullshit about wanting more, and I believed you. I believed all the shit you said to me, all the things you claimed to never tell anyone, but I’m sure that was all bullshit, too. I’m sure none of that even happened.” He shrugs, giving up completely. “But you know what? I’m not even mad at you; I’m mad at myself for believing it. I knew how you were before I started to fall for you. I knew you would hurt me. What were your words, You’ll destroy me? No, ruin, you’ll ruin me. Well, congratulations, Negan, you won,” he says.

Pain flashes in Negan’s eyes, well, what looks like pain. It’s probably humor.

Carl no longer cares about winning or losing or playing these exhausting games. He turns away from him again and begins to walk back toward the house, figuring he’ll find someone’s phone to use to call Enid or somehow get a ride back to the dorms.

“Where are you going?” he asks. It hurts that he doesn’t have anything to say, that he has offered Carl no explanation. He has only confirmed what Carl already knew, that Negan is heartless.

  
A cold, heartless and rude asshole.

Carl walks faster, ignoring him. He trails behind him, calling him name a couple more times, but Carl refuses to let himself be charmed by his voice again.

When he gets back to the house’s front steps, of course he spots Sherry’s hair outside. “Aww, look, she is waiting for you. You two really are perfect for each other,” He calls over his shoulder to Negan.

“It’s not like that and you know it,” he grumbles.

“I don’t know anything, obviously,” Carl snaps and climb two steps at a time.

Dwight appears in the doorway, and Carl rushes to his side. “Can I use your phone? Please?” He begs and Dwight nods.

“Are you okay? I tried to go after you, but you were long gone,” he says and Carl nods.

Negan stands in front of Dwight and him while Carl calls Enid and ask her to pick him up. Dwight and Negan stare at each other for a second when they hear him say Enid’s name, then Dwight looks away and back down at him. “Is she coming?” he asks, his voice full of concern.

“Yeah, she will be here in a few minutes. Thank you for letting me use your phone,” Carl tells him, ignoring Negan.

“No problem. Do you want me to wait with you?” he asks.

“No, I’ll fucking wait with him,” Negan injects, his voice full of venom.

“I would love it if you could wait with me, Dwight,” Carl says and walks back down the steps with him. Negan, being the asshole that he is, follows them and stands behind them awkwardly. Beth, Noah, and Sherry trickle down, too.

“Are you okay?” Beth asks.

“Yeah,” Carl says, nodding. “I’m leaving, though. I shouldn’t have even come here.”

When Beth hugs him, Sherry mutters under her breath, “You got that right.”

His head snaps around at the sound of her voice. He hates confrontation usually, but he hates Sherry even more. “You’re right! I shouldn’t be here. I’m not as adept as you at getting drunk and hanging all over every guy in the place.”

“Excuse me?” she says.

“You heard me.”

“What’s your problem? Mad that I kissed Negan? Because, guess what, babe, I kiss Negan all the time,” she brags.

Carl feels the blood draining from his face. He looks at Negan, who doesn’t say anything. So he’s been messing with Sherry the entire time? This doesn’t surprise him as much as it should. He doesn't even have a comeback for her. He tries to think of something to say back, anything really, but he can’t. He’s sure as soon as he walks away he will think of ten replies, but right now he has nothing.

“Let’s go inside...” Noah suggests and grabs Sherry and Beth by their arms. Carl tries to give him a thankful smile as they start to go.

“You too, Negan. Get away from me,” he says and stares at the street.

“I haven’t kissed her, I mean lately. Except for tonight. I swear,” he says.

Why is he saying this in front of them?

Sherry turns around.

“I don’t really give a shit who you kiss. Now get away from me,” Carl repeats.

A huge wave of relief washes over him as he sees Enid’s car pull up. “Thanks again,” he tells Dwight.

“No problem, don’t forget what we talked about,” he says hopefully, reminding Carl of their supposed “date.”

“Carl,” Negan calls as Carl steps toward the car. When Carl ignores him, he calls louder. “CARL!”

“I have said everything I have to say to you, Negan. I'm done listening to you and your bullshit—now leave me the fuck alone!” He screams, turning around to face him. He’s aware everyone’s eyes are on them, but he has had enough.

“I … fucking hell… Carl… I... ” Negan stutters badly, nearing tripping over his own feet as he rushes after Carl like a lost puppy.

“You what? You what, Negan?” Carl screams even louder.

“I - I FUCKING LOVE YOU!” Negan yells.

And all the air disappears from Carl’s lungs.

And Sherry sounds like she is choking.

And Noah looks like he has seen a ghost.

And for a few moments everyone just stands there, like something alien has passed by them and left them frozen. When at last Carl can speak, he says quietly, “You’re crazy, Negan, you’re really fucking sick.”

Despite the fact that Carl knows this is part of his game, it still awakens something inside him to hear those words come off Negan’s lips. He grabs for the door handle on Enid’s car but he’s yanked away by Negan.

“It’s true, I do. I know you won’t believe me, but I do. I love you.” His eyes brim with tears. His lips press in a hard line and he covers his face with his hands. He takes a step back, then another forward, and when he takes his hands away, his hazel eyes appear sincere, full of panic.

Negan is - he’s a better actor than Carl thought. He can’t believe he is doing this in front of everyone.

Carl shoves him backward and opens the car door, locking it before Negan regains his balance. As Enid drives off, Negan bangs his hands against the window, and Carl puts his hands over his face so Negan doesn’t see him cry.

 


	10. TEN

  
After Carl finally stops sobbing, Enid quietly asks, “Did I hear him say that he loves you?”

“Yeah. I don’t know. He was just trying to cause a scene or something,” he says, and almost starts crying again.

“Do you think - don’t get mad at me, but do you think that maybe he does? You know, love you?”

“What? Of course not. I’m not even sure if he even likes me. I mean, when we’re alone he is so different, and I think maybe he does care about me. But I know he doesn’t love me. He isn’t capable of loving anyone other than himself,” Carl explains.

“I’m on your side, Carl, I am,” Enid replies. “But the look on his face as we drove away, he looked heartbroken. And you can’t be heartbroken if you aren’t in love.”

That can’t be true. He felt his heart shatter when he kissed Sherry, but he doesn't love Negan.

“Do you love him?” She asks simply.

His voice comes out strained and his words too quick. “No. I don’t love him. He is, well, he’s a jerk. I have known him less than two months, and half of that - actually all of that time we have spent fighting. You can’t love someone you only met two months ago. Besides, he’s a jerk.”

“You already said that,” Enid says and he notices the hint of a smile on her lips as she tries to keep her expression neutral.

He doesn’t like the pressure that he feels in his chest as they talk about him loving Negan. It makes him feel nauseous and the space in the car feels much smaller. He rolls down the window a crack and leans his head against it, feeling the little stream of air slip across him.

“Do you want to come back to our house, or go to your dorm?” she asks.

He wants to go to his dorm and curl into a ball on his bed, but he’s afraid that Noah or Negan will show up. The chance of Negan coming to his parent's house is so slim, that seems to him the better option.

“Your house, but can we go by my room so I can grab some clothes? I’m sorry for asking you to drive me all over.”

“Carl, the drive is short and you’re my friend; stop thanking and apologizing to me,” she says sternly, but her sweet smile makes him laugh.

She is the best person he has met here and he’s so lucky to have her.

“Well, let me thank you one last time for being such a great friend to me,” he says, and she frowns playfully.

“You’re welcome. Now let’s move on.”

  
~O~

Carl rushes around his room gathering his clothes and books. He feels like he never stays in his room anymore. This will be the first night in days that he will be sleeping without Negan. He was beginning to get used to it, how foolish of him. He grabs his phone out of his drawer and walks back to Enid’s car.

When they get to her house it’s after eleven. He’s exhausted, and thankful that Hershel and Charlotte are asleep when they arrive. Enid puts a pizza in the oven for them and he eats another one of his cupcakes from earlier. Baking with Charlotte seems like weeks ago, not hours. He had such a long day, and it started so well with his morning with Negan and the internship, and then he ruined it, just like he always does.

After they eat the pizza, Enid and him walk upstairs and she shows him to the guest room that he stayed in last time. Well, he didn’t quite stay in there, since he was woken up by a screaming Negan. Time hasn’t made sense since he met him; everything has happened so quickly, and it makes him dizzy to think about the better times they’ve had and how they’re spaced out between a lot of arguing.

He thanks Enid again and she rolls his eyes at him before leaving him and going into her room. He turns on his phone to find many texts from Negan, Noah, and his father. He deletes all but his father’s message without reading them. He already knows what they will say and he has had enough of it today. He turns his ringtone and text notifications off, put his pajamas on, and climbs into the bed.

It’s one in the morning, and he has to wake up in a few hours. Tomorrow is going to be a long day. If he hadn’t missed his morning classes today, he would just stay home, well, here. Or go back to his dorm. Why did he convince Negan to come back to Media? After tossing and turning, he rolls over to check the time: almost three. Despite the fact that today has been one of the best, and then worst, days of his life, he’s too exhausted to even sleep.

Before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s standing in front of Negan’s bedroom door. And then he enters it. With no one around but himself to judge him, he opens the second drawer and grabs a white T-shirt. He can tell that it has never been worn but he doesn't care. He pulls his own shirt off and replaces it. He lies down on the bed and buries his head in the pillow. Negan’s minty scent fills his nostrils and he finally falls asleep.

~O,

When Carl wakes up, it takes him a moment to remember that he’s not in bed with Negan. The sun is peacefully shining through the bay window and as he looks over, he catches sight of a figure and sits up quickly, orienting himself. As his eyes adjust he’s convinced that he’s going mad.

“Negan?” he says quietly and wipes his eyes.

“Hey,” he says from where he sits in a wingback chair, his elbows on his knees.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Carl snaps. His heart aches already.

“Carl, we need to talk,” Negan says, the bags under his eyes prominent.

“Have you just been watching me sleep?” Carl asks, resisting the urge to scoff.

“No, of course not. I came in here a few minutes ago,” he says. Carl wonders if he had nightmares without him in bed with him. If he hadn’t witnessed them himself, he would think those were part of his games as well, but he remembers holding his sweaty face between his hands and seeing the real fear in his hazel eyes.

Carl stays silent. He doesn't want to fight with him. He just wants him to go away. He hates that he doesn't actually want him to go away but knows that he has to.

“We need to talk,” he repeats. When Carl shake his head no, Negan runs both hands through his hair and takes a deep breath.

“I have to go to class,” Carl tells him.

“Enid already left. I turned your alarm off. It’s eleven already.”

“You what!”

“You were up late and I thought you—” he begins.

“How dare you even- just go.” The pain from his actions yesterday is still fresh, and actually overshadows the anger Carl feels at missing his morning classes, but he can’t show any weakness or he will pounce on it. He always does.

“You’re in my room,” he points out.

Carl climbs out of the bed, not caring if he’s only in a T-shirt, his T-shirt. “You’re right. I’ll go,” he says, the lump in his throat growing and tears threatening to spill out.

“No, I meant: you’re in my room. Why?” His voice is bleak.

“I don’t know. I just I couldn’t sleep...” He admits. He needs to stop talking. “It’s not really your room anyway. I’ve slept here just as many times as you have. Actually more now,” he points out.

“Your own shirt didn’t fit?” he asks, his eyes focused on the white shirt. Of course he is making fun of him.

“Go ahead, tease me,” Carl says, the tears pooling at the bottom of his eyes. Negan makes eye contact with him but Carl looks away.

“I wasn’t teasing you.” He stands up from the chair and takes a step toward Carl. He backs away and raise his hands to block him and he stops. “Just hear me out, okay?”

“What else could you possibly have to say, Negan? We always do this. We have the same fight over and over, only worse each time. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t.”

“I said I was sorry for kissing her,” he says.

“That isn’t what this is about. Well, that’s part of it, but there is so much more. The fact that you don’t get that proves that we are wasting our time. You will never be who I need you to be, and I'm not who you want me to be.” Carl wipes his eyes as Negan looks out the window.

“But you are who I want you to be,” he says.

Carl wishes he could believe him. He wishes Negan wasn’t so incapable of feelings.

“You’re not,” is all Carl can say.

“I’m not what?”

“Who I want you to be; you do nothing but hurt me.” Carl walks past him and crosses the hall to the guest room. He hastily pulls his pants up his legs and gather his things, Negan’s eyes following his every move.

“Didn’t you hear what I told you yesterday?” he finally says.

Carl was hoping he wouldn’t bring this up.

“Answer me,” he says.

“Yeah. I heard you,” He tells him, avoiding looking in his direction.

His voice becomes hostile. “And you have nothing to say about it?”

“No,” Carl lies. Negan steps in front of him. “Move,” Carl begs.

Negan is dangerously close to him and he knows what he is going to do as he moves in to kiss him. He tries to back away from him, but his strong hands pull him closer, holding him in place. His lips touch his, and his tongue tries to push through Carl’s lips but he refuses.

He eases his head back slightly. “Kiss me back, Car,” he demands.

“No.” He pushes at his chest.

“Tell me you don’t feel the same, and I will go.” His face is inches from his, his breath hot on Carl’s face.

“I don’t.” It hurts to say the words but Negan has to go.

“Yes, you do,” Negan says, his tone desperate. “I know you do.”

“I don’t, Negan, and neither do you. You can’t possibly think that I bought that?”

He lets go of him. “You don’t believe that I love you?”

“Of course not, how stupid do you think I am?”

He stares at Carl for a second before he opens his mouth and closes it again. “You’re right,” he says.

“What?”

He shrugs. “You’re right, I don’t. I don’t love you, I was just adding to the drama of the whole thing.” He laughs lightly. Carl knows he didn’t mean it, but that doesn’t make his honesty hurt any less. A part of him, a larger part than he wants to accept, hopes that Negan actually did.

He stands against the wall as Carl walks out of the room, his bag in hand.

As he reaches the stairs, Charlotte smiles up at him. “Carl, honey, I didn’t know you were here!” Her smile fades as she notices his distressed state. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“No, I’m good. I was locked out of my room last night and I...”

“Charlotte,” Negan’s voice says from behind him.

“Negan!” Her smile slightly returns. “Would you two like something to eat, some breakfast? Well, lunch, it’s noon.”

“No, thank you, I was just going back to the dorms,” Carl tells her as he descends.

“I could eat,” Negan says.

She seems surprised as she looks at Carl and then back at Negan. “Okay, great! I will be in the kitchen!”

After she disappears, Carl heads for the door.

“Where are you going?” He grabs Carl’s wrist. He struggles for a second before he releases it.

“The dorms, like I just said.”

“You’re just going to walk?”

“What the hell is wrong with you? You act like nothing is happening, like we haven’t just been fighting, like you haven’t done anything. You are seriously insane, Negan—I’m talking mental institution, medicated, padded-walls insane. You say horrible things to me and then try to offer me a ride?” Carl can’t keep up with him.

“I didn’t say anything horrible, actually; all I said was that I don’t love you, which you claim you already knew. And secondly, I wasn’t offering you a ride. I was simply asking if you were going to walk back.”

His smug expression makes Carl dizzy. Why would he even come here to find him if he doesn’t care about him? Doesn’t he have anything better to do than torture him?

“What did I do?” He finally asks. He has been wanting to ask this for a while, but he’s always been afraid of his answer.

“What?”

“What did I do to make you hate me?” Carl asks, trying to keep his voice down so Charlotte doesn’t hear him. “You can have practically any person you want and you continue to waste your time—and mine—to find new ways to hurt me. What’s the point? Do you dislike me that much?”

“No, it’s not that. I don’t dislike you, Carl. You just made yourself an easy target—it’s all about the chase, right?” Negan says boastfully. Before he can say anything else, Charlotte calls his name and asks if he wants pickles on his sandwich.

He walks to the kitchen and answers her; Carl walks out the door.

On the way to the bus stop, he figure that he’s already missed so many classes lately he might as well miss the rest of the day and get a car. Luckily, the bus pulls up minutes later and he finds a seat in the very back.

As he slumps down in the seat, he thinks back to what Enid said about heartbreak, that if you don’t love the person, they can’t break your heart. Negan repeatedly breaks his heart, even when he doesn't think there are any more pieces to break.

And Carl loves him. He loves Negan.

  
Shit.

~O~

The salesman is a creep and smells like stale cigarettes, but Carl can’t be picky any longer. After an hour of negotiating, he writes him a check for the down payment and he gives Carl the keys to a decent 2010 Corolla. The white paint is chipped in a few places, but he managed to talk him down low enough that he can let it slide. He calls his mother before he drives out of the lot to tell him, and of course he says he should have gotten a bigger car and lists the reasons why. He ends up pretending to lose service and shuts his phone off.

It feels amazing to drive his own car. He no longer has to depend on public transportation and now he can drive himself to his internship. He hopes him cutting ties with Negan doesn’t affect it. He doesn't think it can, but what if he is bored with just simply making him cry and does something to ruin it?

Maybe he should talk to Hershel and try to explain that Negan and him are no longer... dating? He thinks they are dating, so he will have to come up with something besides “Your son is the cruelest person in the world and he is toxic to me so I can no longer be around him.”

He turns the radio on and turns it up louder than he usually would, but it does what he needs it to. It drowns out his thoughts and he focuses on every lyric to every song. He ignores the fact that every song seems to remind him of Negan.

Before heading back to campus, he decides to go buy some more clothes. It’s getting colder, so he need some more jeans, and besides, he’s growing tired of wearing his baggy jeans all the time. He ends up buying a few new outfits to wear to The Governor's, some plain shirts and cardigans, and a couple of pairs of jeans. They are tighter than usual but they look good on him.

Noah isn’t in the room when he returns, which is good. He really think he may need to look into changing rooms. Noah is one of his good friends, but they can’t continue to live together if Negan is around. Depending on how much he will be making at his internship, he could get his own apartment and live off campus. His father would lose it but it isn’t up to him.

He folds his new clothes and puts them away before grabbing his toiletry bag and heading to the showers. When he returns, Noah and Dwight are sitting on Noah’s bed, looking at his computer.

Great.

He looks up sleepily. “Hey, Carl, did Negan ever find you last night?” When Carl nods, Noah asks, “So did you work it out?”

“No. Well, yeah, I guess. I'm done with him,” Carl tells him. Noah’s eyes go wide; he must have assumed he would sink his claws back into hm.

“Well, I for one am glad.” Dwight smiles and Noah punches his arm. Noah’s phone beeps and he looks down.

“Beth is here, we gotta go. Wanna come?” He asks.

“No, thanks. I’m gonna stay here—but I did get a car today!” Carl tells him and Noah smiles.

“Really! That’s awesome!” he says and Carl nods. “You’ll have to show me it when I get back,” he says and they head for the door. Noah walks out but Dwight lingers in the doorway.

“Carl?” His voice is as smooth as velvet. Carl looks up and Dwight smiles at him. “Did you think about our date?” he asks, staring into his eyes.

“I...” Carl is about to reject him, but why? He’s somewhat attractive and seems sweet. He didn’t take advantage of him when he easily could have. Carl knows he would be better company than Negan; anyone would be, honestly. “Sure.” He smiles.

“Sure as in you will let me take you out?” His smile grows.

“Yeah, why not?” He replies.

“Tonight, then?”

“Yeah, tonight is good.” He doesn't think tonight is a good idea, seeing as he has studying to make up for, but he’s still ahead of the course despite having missed a few classes this week.

“Awesome, I’ll be here at seven, yeah?”

“Okay.”

He brings his lower lip between his perfect teeth. “See you tonight, handsome,” he says and Carl flushes, waving goodbye as he leaves the room.

It is four now, so he has three hours. He brushes his hair and tries a different cologne. He applies lotion to his face to get rid of the bags and puts on one of his new outfits, a pair of dark jeans, a white tank top, and a long brown cardigan. His nerves are getting the best of him as he stares into the mirror. Maybe he should change? He switches to a blue tank top and a button-up shirt. He can’t believe he’s going on a date with Dwight.

He’s had one girlfriend in his entire life, and now he’s going on a date with Dwight after all this mess with Negan. Maybe guys with tattoos and leather jackets are his new type?

He pulls out his old copy of _World War Z_ and begins to read to pass the time. But his mind wanders, and thoughts of Lydia continue to preoccupy him. Should he call her? He reaches for his phone and scrolls through the names until he reaches her. He stares at the screen; his guilt and his common sense fight it out until he tosses his phone back onto his bed.

  
~O~

What seems like just minutes later, there is a knock at the door. He knows it must be Dwight because Negan wouldn’t knock. He would rudely barge in and throw his stuff all over the place.

When Carl opens the door he can’t help but gape. Dwight is dressed in tight black jeans, white sneakers, and a T-shirt with a cutoff jean jacket over it. He looks hot.

“You look handsome, Carl,” he says, and then hands him a flower.

A flower? He’s both surprised and flattered by Dwight’s thoughtful gift.

“Thank you.” Carl smiles and bring the white lily to his nose.

“Are you ready?” he asks politely.

“Yes, where are you taking me?” Carl asks him as they walk outside.

“I figured we’d just go to dinner and a movie, something casual, no pressure.” He beams.

He reaches for the passenger door handle but Dwight stops him. “Allow me,” he says with humor in his voice.

“Oh. Thanks.”

He’s still nervous, but Dwight’s so nice it makes it easy to start to relax. When they get into the car he keeps the radio off and makes small talk, asking about his family and his plans after college. He tells Carl how he is going to GSU for environmental science, which surprises but intrigues him.

They arrive at a casual café-style restaurant and sit out on the patio. After ordering their meals, they continue chatting until the food comes. Dwight eats all of his food and begins to steal fries off Carl’s plate.

He lifts his fork menacingly. “If you take another fry, I’ll have to kill you,” he teases.

Dwight gives him a mock-innocent look and laughs with his tongue between his teeth. He finds himself laughing for what seems like ages, and it feels great.

“You have an adorable laugh,” he says, and Carl rolls his eyes.

They end up going to see a cheesy comedy that fails to entertain either of them. But that’s okay, because they entertain ourselves with small jokes to each other during the movie, and toward the end he puts his hand over Carl’s. It’s not uncomfortable, like he had assumed that it would be, but it doesn’t feel the same as when Negan does it. And right then it occurs to Carl that he made it hours without even thinking of Negan, which is a refreshing change from him consuming Carl’s thoughts every day, all day.

When Dwight gets him back to campus, it’s almost eleven. He’s glad it’s Wednesday—only two more days until the weekend, when he can catch up on his sleep.

Dwight gets out of the car and walks over to him as Carl adjust stands there awkwardly. “I had a really nice time; thank you for agreeing to come out with me,” he says.

“I had a nice time, too.” Carl smiles.

“I was thinking... remember when you asked if I was going to the bonfire?” When Carl nods, Dwight asks, “Do you mind if I come along?”

“Sure, that would be fine. I’ll be going with Enid and her boyfriend, though.” He doesn’t recall Dwight joining in on the group teasing Enid, but he just wants to make sure he knows that it is not okay.

“That’s fine, she seems nice,” he says and Carl smiles.

“Well, it’s settled, then. Meet you there?” He suggests. There is no way he’s taking Dwight to dinner at Enid’s house.

“Sounds good. Thanks again for tonight.” He takes a step closer.

Is he going to kiss him? He starts to panic. But instead Dwight wraps his hand his mine and brings it up to his mouth. Placing one single kiss on the top of Carl’s hand, his lips are soft against his hot skin and his gesture is very sweet.

“Have a good night, Carl,” he says and gets back into his car.

Carl lets out a deep breath, relieved that he didn’t try to really kiss him. He’s cute, and was a good kisser during Truth or Dare, but the timing just doesn’t feel right.

 

~O~

The next morning Enid is waiting at the coffeehouse for him and he tells her about Dwight.

Annoyingly, the first thing she says is “Does Negan know about this?”

“No, and he doesn’t need to. It’s none of his business.” He realizes his tone was a little too harsh, so he adds, “I’m sorry, it’s just a touchy subject.”

“Obviously. Just be careful,” she warns him sweetly and he promises her that I will.

The rest of the day zooms by and Enid doesn’t bring up Negan or Dwight again. Finally it’s time for Media, and he holds his breath as Enid and him walk into the room, where Negan is sitting in his usual seat. His chest aches at the sight of him. Negan glances over at him but then turns back to the front of the room.

“So you went out with Dwight last night?” he asks as Carl sits down. He was praying that he wouldn’t talk to him.

“That’s none of your concern,” he replies quietly.

He turns in his seat and brings his face close to his. “Word travels quickly in our group, Carl, remember that.”

Is he trying to threaten to tell his friends about all the things they did together? The thought makes him sick and he resists the urge to punch Negan in the face.

Carl turns away from him and focuses his attention to the professor, who clears his throat and says, “Okay, everyone, let’s start where we left off yesterday discussing _The Maze Runner._ ”

Carl’s stomach drops. They aren’t supposed to be discussing _The Maze Runner_ series until next week—this is what he gets for missing class. He feels Negan’s eyes on him.

The professor continues to ask questions and usually Carl would raise his hand immediately, proud to show off his expert knowledge on dystopian novels, but he doesn't want to speak.

Negan says something about the death of some of the characters in the third book and how Thomas was a selfish human being and they could have had a more happy ending if Thomas actually cared about other people and their feels. He stares right at Carl as he calls Thomas a “fucking asshole who deserves to die alone”.

Carl wants to sink in his chair as he hears gasps and whispers from the class. The entire class seems to be looking at him, waiting for his reply. They are probably hoping for an argument like last time, but he stays quiet. He knows Negan is trying to bait him, and he will not fall for it.

~O~

After class he says goodbye to Enid and walks straight to the professor to explain his absences. He congratulates him on his internship and explains that he rearranged the syllabus a little. He keeps their conversation going until Negan exits the room.

He makes his way back to his room, where he lays out all his notes and textbooks on his bed. He tries to study but feels on edge waiting for Noah, Negan, or one of the many other people who are always in and out of his room, to show up. He packs his study materials into his bag and heads to his car. He will find a place to study off campus, maybe a coffee shop.

Driving toward town, he spies a small library on the corner of a busy street. Only a few cars are in the lot, so he pulls in. He walks all the way to the back of the library and sits next to the window, pulling all of his books and notes out so he can get to work. For the first time, he can study in peace, no distractions. This will be his new sanctuary, the perfect place to study.

“We’re closing in five minutes,” an elderly librarian comes over to inform him.

Closing? Looking out the window, he sees that it is dark out. He didn’t even notice the sun going down. He was so engrossed in his books, hours passed and he didn’t even notice. He will definitely have to come here more often.

“Oh, okay, thank you,” he replies and packs up his things. Checking his phone, he sees a new text from Dwight.

*I just wanted to tell you goodnight, I can’t wait for Friday*.

He really is very nice, so Carl replies: *That is very sweet, thank you. I’m looking forward to it too*.

Back in the room, Noah is still gone, so he changes into his pajamas and grabs The Death Cure. He falls asleep quickly, dreaming of Thomas and the Trials.

~O~

When he wakes up on Friday, he has a text message from Enid telling him she won’t be on campus at all today because Ron is arriving earlier than he thought. Skipping Media crosses his mind momentarily, but he decides against it. He can’t let Negan ruin anything else he likes.

He takes a little more time to get ready today and washes his hair. It’s supposed to be warm, so he wears a black sleeveless fleece jacket and jeans. When he goes to the coffeehouse before class, Tara ends up in front of him in line. Before he can walk away unnoticed, she turns around.

“Hey, Carl,” she says.

“Hey, Tara. How are you?” He asks politely.

“I’m good, you coming tonight?”

“To the bonfire?”

“No, the party. The bonfire is going to be lame, it always is.”

“Oh well, I’m going to the bonfire.” He laughs lightly and she chuckles.

“Well, if you get bored, you can always stop by,” she says and grabs her coffee.

He thanks her as she walks away, relieved that Negan’s group seems uninterested in the bonfire, which means he won't have to deal with any of them tonight.

When it’s time for Media, he walks right to his seat without a single glance in Negan’s direction. The discussion continues on The Maze Runner, but Negan stays silent. As soon as they are dismissed, he gathers his things and practically bolts to the door.

“Carl!” He hears Negan call behind him, but he just walks faster. Without Enid here he feels more vulnerable. When he reaches the sidewalk, he feels a light touch on his arm. He knows it’s Negan from the way his skin tingles.

“What!” Carl says, raising his voice a little.

Negan takes a step back and holds out a notebook. “You dropped this.”

Relief and disappointment battles inside Carl. He wishes this ache in his chest would go away. Instead of shrinking, it seems to get larger every moment of every day. He shouldn’t have admitted to himself that he loves him—if he would have kept ignoring the truth, maybe it would hurt less.

“Oh, thanks,” Carl mumbles and grabs the notebook from him. His eyes catch his and they just stare at one another until after a few seconds Carl remembers that they are standing on a crowded sidewalk and he looks around at everyone passing by then. Negan runs a hand down his hair before he turns and walks away.

  
~O~

Carl heads to his car and drives straight to Enid’s. He wasn’t going to go until five; it’s only three, but he can’t sit alone in his room. He really has gone mental since Negan came into his life.

When he arrives, Charlotte answers the door with a huge smile and invites him in.

“It’s only me here right now. Ron and Enid are at the store fetching a few things for me,” she says as she brings him into the kitchen.

“That’s okay, sorry for coming so early.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry. You can help me cook!” She hands him a cutting board and a few onions and potatoes to chop and they talk about the weather and the upcoming winter.

“Carl, did you still want to help me get the greenhouse going? It’s climate controlled, so we don’t have to worry about the winter.”

“Yes, of course! I would love to.”

“Great, maybe tomorrow? Next weekend I will be a little busy,” she jokes.

Her wedding. He’d almost forgotten. He tries to smile back at her. “Yeah, I’d say so.” He wishes he could’ve gotten Negan to agree to go, but it was impossible then and it’s even more impossible now.

Charlotte puts the chicken in the oven and gathers plates and silverware so they can set the table. “Is Negan coming to dinner tonight?” she asks as they start laying things out. She’s clearly trying to sound nonchalant, but he can see she’s a little nervous about the question.

“No, he won’t be coming,” he tells her and looks down.

She stops what she’s doing. “Are you guys okay? I don’t mean to be nosy.”

“That’s all right.” He might as well tell her. “I don’t think we’re okay.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry to hear that. You two really had something, I thought. But I know it’s really hard to be with someone who is afraid to show their feelings.”

This line of conversation makes him feel a little weird. He can’t even talk to his own father about stuff like this, but something about Charlotte’s openness makes him more able to discuss this sort of thing. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t know Negan as well as I wish I did, but I know he is very closed off emotionally. Hershel used to stay awake nights worrying about him. He has always been an unhappy child.” Her eyes go glossy. “He wouldn’t even tell his mom he loved her.”

“What?” Carl says again.

“He just won’t say it. I’m not sure why. Hershel can’t recall a single time when Negan said he loved either of his parents since he knew them. It’s truly sad, not only for Hershel or Negan’s family, but for Negan as well.” She blots her eyes.

For someone who refuses to tell anyone, even his own parents, that he loves them, he sure was quick to use the words against him in a hateful way. “He is . . . He’s very difficult to understand,” is all he can think to say.

“Yes, yes, he is. But, Carl, I hope you’ll still come around even if you two don’t work things out.”

“Of course,” he tells her.

  
~O~

Perhaps sensing his mood, Charlotte switches to talk of the greenhouse while they wait for the food to finish cooking and then put everything out on the table. Midway through a sentence, Charlotte stops and puts on a wide smile. He turns to find Enid walking into the kitchen followed by a boy with brown hair. He knew Ron would be handsome, but he is even more so than he could have imagined.

“Hi, you must be Carl,” he says even as Enid opens her mouth to introduce them. Ron immediately comes over and hugs him, and Carl immediately likes him.

“Ron, I have heard so much about you—it’s nice to finally meet you!” Carl says, and Ron smiles. Enid’s eyes follow Ron as he walks past and hugs Charlotte, then takes a seat at the counter.

“We passed Hershel on our way here. He was getting gas, so he should be here any minute,” Enid tells her mom.

“Great, Carl and I have already set the table.”

Enid goes over to where Ron sits, puts her arm around his waist, and leads him to the table. Carl takes his seat across from them and glance over at the empty place setting next to him, which Charlotte had set up for “purposes of symmetry,” but it just makes him a little sad. In another life Negan would be sitting next to him, holding his hand the way Ron is Enid’s, and he could lean into him without fear of being rejected. He’s beginning to wish he had invited Dwight even though it would have been extremely awkward; having dinner with two deeply in-love couples may prove worse.

Hershel enters, saving him from his thoughts. He walks over and kisses Charlotte on her cheek before sitting down.

“Dinner looks great, honey,” he says and playfully places a napkin on his lap. “Ron, you get more taller each time I see you.” He smiles at him, then turns to Carl. “And Carl, congratulations on your internship at The Governor's. Phillip called me and told me. You made a wonderful first impression on him.”

“Thank you again for calling him; it’s such an amazing opportunity.” Carl smiles and the table’s silent for a moment while they all try Charlotte’s chicken, which is delicious.

“Sorry I’m late,” Carl hears from behind him and his fork falls out of his hand onto his plate.

“Negan! I didn’t know you were coming!” Charlotte says nicely, then looks at Carl. He looks away. His pulse is already quickening.

“Yeah, remember we discussed it last week, Carl?” Negan smiles his menacing smile and takes the seat next to him.

What is wrong with him? Why can’t he just leave him alone? He knows it is partly his fault for letting Negan get to him, but he really enjoys playing cat-and-mouse. Everyone’s eyes are on Carl, so he nods and picks up his fork. Ron looks confused and Enid looks worried.

“You must be Roland?” Negan says to him.

“Oh, Ron, actually,” Ron corrects him politely.

“Yeah, Ronald. Same thing,” Negan mutters and Carl kicks him under the table.

Enid glares at him, but Negan doesn’t seem to notice. Hershel and Charlotte go into conversation between themselves, as do Ron and Enid. Carl stays focused on his food and thinks of an exit strategy.

“So, how’s your evening so far?” Negan asks in a casual tone. He knows that Carl won’t cause a scene, so he is trying to annoy him.

“Fine,” Carl answers quietly.

“You’re not going to ask me how mine is?” Negan smirks.

“Nope,” Carl mumbles nonchalantly and takes another bite.

“Carl, was that your car outside?” Hershel asks and Carl nods.

“Oh yeah, I finally got my own car!” He says, with a little extra excitement in the hopes that everyone else will join in so he’s not stuck talking to just Negan.

Negan raises his eyebrow at him. “When?”

“The other day,” Carl answers. ‘You know, the day that you told me that it’s all about the chase?’ he thinks bitterly.

“Oh. Where did you get it?”

“A used-car lot,” Carl answers smarty and watches Ron and Charlotte both try to hide their smiles. Sensing an opportunity to direct the attention off him, he says, “So, Ron, Enid told me you were thinking of going to New York for a dance school?” Ron tells them all about his plans to move to New York, and Enid looks genuinely happy for him despite the distance that will stay between them.

When he finishes, Enid looks at her phone and says, “Well, we should get going soon. That bonfire waits for no one.”

“What?” Charlotte says. “Okay, but at least take some of the dessert with you!”

Enid nods and helps her put some into a Tupperware container.

“Are you going to ride with me?” Negan says. Carl looks around like he’s confused about whom he’s addressing.

“I’m talking to you,” Negan states.

“What? No, you’re not going,” Carl tells him.

“Yes, I am. And you can’t stop me from going, so you might as well ride with me.” He smiles and tries to put his hand on Carl’s thigh.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Carl says under his breath.

“Can we talk outside?” he asks and looks toward his father.

“No,” Carl says quietly—every time Negan “talks” he ends up crying.

But Negan stands up quickly and grabs his hand, pulling Carl to his feet. “We’ll be outside,” he announces, and pulls him through the living room and out the front door.

Once they’re outside, Carl yanks his arm away and warns him, “Stop touching me!”

Negan shrugs. “Sorry, but you weren’t going to come with me.”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“I’m sorry. For everything, okay?” His fingers play with his growing beard and Carl avoids focusing on his mouth. He stares at the way Negan’s eyes search his face.

“You’re sorry? You’re not sorry, Negan—you just want to mess with me. Just stop. I’m exhausted and drained from fighting with you all the time. I can’t do it anymore. Isn’t there anyone else that you can mess with? Heck, I’ll even help you find someone, some poor innocent person for you to torture as long as it isn’t me.”

“That’s not what I’m doing. I know I’m back and forth a lot with you, and I don’t know why I do it. But if you give me one chance, one more chance, I will stop. I tried to stay away from you but I can’t. I fucking need you . . .” He looks down at the deck, rubbing the tips of his boots together.

The audacity of what he’s saying helps Carl keep his tears in check this time; Negan’s ego has seen quite enough of them. “Stop! Just stop. Aren’t you tired of this? If you needed me you wouldn’t treat me the way you do. You told me yourself it was all about the chase, remember? You can’t just show up here after everything and act like nothing happened.”

  
“I didn’t mean that. You know I didn’t.”

“So you admit you just said it to hurt me?” Carl glares at him, trying to keep his guard up.

“Yeah...” Negan looks down.

Carl’s so confused by him; Negan says he wants more, then he kisses Sherry, then he tells Carl he loves him and takes it back, and now he is apologizing again? “Why should I forgive you—you just admitted that you did something solely to hurt me.”

“One more chance? Please, Car. I’ll tell you everything,” he pleads. Carl almost believes the pain in his eyes as he looks down at him.

“I can’t, I have to go.”

“Why can’t I come with you?” he asks.

“Because I'm meeting Dwight there.”

Carl watches as his expression changes and seems to crumple before him. It takes everything in him not to comfort Negan. But Negan did this to himself. Even if he actually does care, it’s too late.

“Dwight? So are you guys, what dating or fucking now?” Negan’s tone is full of disgust.

“No, we haven’t even talked about it and it's none of your business who's bed I’m in or not. We’re just… I don’t know, spending time together, I guess.”

“You haven’t talked about it? So if he asked you, you would?”

“I don’t know...” And Carl honestly doesn't know. “He is nice and polite and he treats me well.” Why is even explaining himself to this asshole?

“Carl, you don’t even know him, you don’t know—”

The front door shoots open and an exuberant Enid asks, “Ready?”

Her eyes dart to Negan, who for once looks unguarded and even heartbroken.

Carl forces his feet towards his car and follows Enid as she pulls out of the driveway. He can’t help but look back at Negan, who is still on the porch, still staring back at him as he drives away.

~O~

Pulling into the spot next to Enid, he texts Dwight to tell him that he has arrived. He writes back immediately with a note to meet him at the far left corner of the field.

Carl tells Enid where he’ll be as she and Ron walk up.

“Sounds good,” she says, but she seems less than thrilled.

“Who’s Dwight?” Ron asks.

“He’s my... friend.” He is just a friend.

“Negan’s your boyfriend, right?” He asks.

Carl looks over at him. Ron doesn’t seem to be implying anything, he just seems confused. Welcome to the club.

“No, babe.” Enid laughs. “Neither of them are.”

Carl laughs, too. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

Right as they get to where everyone is, the school band begins to play and the field becomes more and more crowded. He’s relieved when he spots Dwight leaning against the fence. He points him out, and they head over there.

“Oh,” Ron squeals as they get close. Carl can’t tell if he’s surprised by his tattoos and leather, or his handsome face.

“Hey, handsome,” Dwight says, beaming, and hugs him. Carl smiles at him, returning the hug.

“Hi, I’m Dwight. It’s nice to meet you both.” He nods toward Enid and Ron. Carl knows he’s met Enid before, so maybe he’s just trying to be polite.

“Have you been here long?” Carl asks.

“Only about ten minutes. A lot more people here than I expected.”

Enid leads the way to a less crowded area near the enormous mound of wood, and they all sit on the grass. Enid sits between Ron’s legs and leans back against his chest. The sun is going down and the breeze is picking up. He should have worn long sleeves.

“Yeah, have you been to one of these before?” Carl asks Dwight, who shakes his head.

“No, this isn’t my typical scene,” he says with a laugh before adding, “But I’m glad to be here tonight.”

Carl smiles at his compliment and right then someone walks up to the central bandstand and gives us all a warm welcome on behalf of the school and the band. After a couple of minutes of rambling on, they finally count down to the lighting of the fire, and three, two, one - the fire ignites and swallows the mound of wood fiercely. It’s actually quite beautiful being this close to the flames, and he can tell you’ll be warm enough after all.

“So how long are you here?” Dwight asks Ron.

Ron frowns. “Only the weekend. I wish I could come back for the wedding next weekend.”

“What wedding?” Dwight asks.

Carl looks at Enid, who answers, “My parent’s.”

“Oh,” Dwight pauses and looks down, as if thinking about something.

“What?” Carl asks him.

“Nothing. I’m just trying to remember who else said something about a wedding next weekend. Oh yeah—Negan, I think. He was asking us what he should wear to a wedding.”

Carl’s heart stops. He hopes it doesn't show it on his face. So Negan definitely still hasn’t told any of his friends that his father is the chancellor, or that he’s Enid’s adoptive brother.

“Bit of a coincidence, right?” he asks.

“No, they are—” Ron begins, but Carl interrupts: “Quite a coincidence, but, then, in a town this size, there are probably a few every weekend.”

Dwight nods in agreement, and Enid whispers something in Ron’s ear.

Negan is actually considering going to the wedding?

Dwight chuckles. “I can’t imagine Negan at a wedding anyway.”

“Why not?” Carl’s tone is a little harsher than he meant it to be.

“I don’t know, because he’s Negan. The only way to get him to go to a wedding would be if he knew he could have sex with the bridesmaids. All of them,” he says and rolls his eyes.

“I thought you and Negan are friends?” Carl says, confused.

“We are. I’m not saying anything bad about him—that’s just how Negan is. He has sex with a different girl or guy every weekend, sometimes more than one.”

Carl’s ears are buzzing and the fire feels too hot on his skin. He stands up before he realizes what he’s doing.

“Where are you going? What’s wrong?” Dwight asks.

“Nothing, I just need some air. Some fresh air,” He mumbles. He knows how stupid that sounds but he doesn't care. “Be right back, I just need a second.” He marches away quickly before any of them can follow him.

What is wrong with him? Dwight is sweet and he actually likes him, he enjoys his company, and yet all it takes is a mention of Negan and he can’t stop thinking about him. He takes a quick stroll around the stands and few deep breaths before walking back over to them.

“Sorry, the fire was just too hot,” he lies and sits back down.

Dwight has his phone out and turns the screen away from Carl as he slides it back into his pocket. He tells him it’s fine and they make small talk with Enid and Ron for the next hour.

“I’m getting sort of tired, I had an early flight,” Ron finally tells Enid, who nods.

“Yeah, I’m tired, too. We’re going to get going.”

Ron stands up and helps Enid to her feet.

“Do you want to go, too?” Dwight asks him.

“No, I’m okay. Unless you want to?”

He shakes his head. “I’m cool.” They say goodbye to Enid and Ron and watch as they disappear into the crowd.

“So what’s the reason behind the bonfire?” Carl asks Dwight, unsure that he really knows.

“I think it’s like to celebrate the end of the football season,” he tells him. “Or the middle of it, or something?” Carl looks around and notices for the first time that a lot of people are wearing jerseys.

“Oh.” He looks over at Dwight. “I see it now,” he says and laughs.

“Yeah,” he says and then squints. “Is that Negan?”

Carl snaps his head in the direction he’s looking. Sure enough, Negan is walking toward them with a short brunette wearing a skirt.

Carl scoots closer to Dwight. This is exactly why he doesn't listen to Negan on the porch—he’s already found some girl to bring here just to spite him.

“Hey, Dwight,” the girl says in a high-pitched voice.

“Hey, Amy.” Dwight hooks his arm around Carl’s shoulder. Negan glares at him but takes a seat with them.

Carl knows he’s being rude by not introducing himself to this girl, but he can’t help but dislike her already.

“How’s the bonfire so far?” Negan asks.

“Warm. And almost over, I think,” Dwight replies.

There is tension between the two of them. Carl can feel it. He doesn't know why there would be—Negan made it clear to his friends that he doesn’t give a shit about him.

“Do they have food here?” the girl says in her annoying voice.

“Yeah, they have a concession stand,” Carl tells her.

“Negan, come with me to get some food,” she demands. He rolls his eyes but stands up.

“Bring me back a pretzel, yeah?” Dwight yells, smiling, and Negan clenches his jaw.

What is up with them?

As soon as Negan and Amy disappear Carl turns to Dwight. “Hey, can we go? I don’t really want to hang out with Negan; we sort of hate each other, in case you forgot.” He tries to force out a playful laugh, but it doesn’t happen.

“Yeah, sure, sure,” he says. They both stand up and he reaches for Carl’s hand. They hold hands as they walk, and he finds himself looking around for Negan and hoping he won’t see.

“Do you want to go to the party?” Dwight asks as they reach the parking lot.

“No, I don’t really want to go there, either.” That is the last place he wants to go.

“Okay, well, we can just hang out another-” he begins.

“No, I still want to hang out. I just don’t want to be here or at that frat house,” Carl says quickly.

He looks surprised as his eyes meet his. “Okay, well, we can go to my place? If you want; if not, we can go somewhere else? I actually don’t really know where else to go in this town.” He laughs and Carl joins him.

“Your place is fine. I’ll follow you there,” he tells him.

During the drive, he can’t help but picture Negan’s face when he returns to find them gone. He brought a girl there with him, so he has no right to be upset, but it doesn’t really ease the pang in Carl’s stomach to justify it like that.

Dwight’s apartment is right off campus and is small but clean. He offers him a drink, but he declines since he plans on driving back to his room tonight.

He plops down on the couch, and Dwight hands him the remote before going back to the kitchen to make himself a drink. “You can be in control; I don’t know what you like to watch.”

“Do you live alone?” Carl asks him and he nods. He feels a little awkward as Dwight sits next to him and puts his arm around his waist, but he hides his nervousness with a smile. Dwight’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he stands up to answer it. Holding a finger up to tell him he will be back, he wanders into his small kitchen area.

“We left,” Carl hears him say. “So . . .” “Fair.” “Too bad.” The few snippets of conversation that Carl catches makes no sense to him except the “we left.”

Is that Negan on the phone? Carl stands up and walks toward the kitchen as Dwight hangs up.

“Who was that?” He asks.

“No one important,” he assures him and leads Carl back to the couch. “I’m really glad we’re getting to know each other; you’re different from the rest of the girls here,” he says sweetly.

“Me, too,” Carl tells him. “Do you know Amy?” He can’t help but ask.

“Yeah, her boyfriend is Simon’s cousin.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Yeah, they have been together awhile. Amy’s pretty cool.”

So Negan wasn’t there with her, not in that way at least. Maybe he actually came there to try to talk to him again, instead of trying to hurt him with another girl.

Carl looks over to Dwight just as he leans in to kiss him. His lips are cool from his drink and tastes like vodka. His hands are careful and smooth against Carl’s arms, then his waist. Negan’s heartbroken face from earlier pops into his mind, the way he begged for one more chance and he didn’t believe him, the way he watched him drive away, the outburst in class about Thomas from the Maze Runner, the way he always shows up when he doesn't want him to, the way he never tells his mother that he loves her, the way he said he loved him in front of everyone, the hurtful way he took it back, the way he breaks things when he’s angry, the way he came to his parent's house tonight even though he hates it there, and the way he asked his friends what to wear to the wedding—it all makes perfect sense, but no sense, at the same time.

Negan loves him. In his own damaged way, he does love him. The realization of this hits him like a truck.

“What?” Dwight says and pulls away from they’re kiss.

“What?” Carl repeats his word.

“You just said Negan.”

“No, I didn’t,” he defends.

“Yes, yes, you did.” Dwight stands up and steps away from the couch.

“I have to go. I’m sorry,” Carl says and grabs his phone and rushes out of the door before he can say anything else.

~O~

Carl takes a second to think about what he’s doing. He left Dwight to go find Negan, but he really needs to think about what will happen next. Negan will either say terrible things to him, curse at him, and make him leave, or he will admit that he has feelings for him and that all these games he has been playing are just his way of not being able to deal with and express his feelings in a normal way.

If the first scenario happens, and he mostly expect it to, he will be in no worse a state than he’s in now. But, if it’s the second, is he ready to forgive him for all the terrible things he has said and done to him?

If they both admit the way they feel about each other, will everything change? Will he change? Is he capable of caring for him the way he needs him to, and, if so, is he capable of putting up with Negan’s mood swings?

The problem is, he can’t answer any of these questions on his own, not a single one. He hates the way Negan clouds his thoughts and makes him feel unsure about himself. He hates not knowing what he will do or say.

He pulls up to the damned fraternity house that he has spent way too much time in. He hates this house. He hates a lot of things right now, and his anger toward Negan is almost to its boiling point. He parks at the curb and rushes up the steps and into the crowded house. He heads straight for the old couch Negan is usually perched on, but, not spotting black hair, he ducks behind a heavy set guy before Beth or anyone else can spot him.

Rushing up the stairs to his room, he bangs his fist against the door, annoyed that once again he has it locked.

“Negan! It’s me, open the door!” He yells desperately and continues to pound, but there’s no answer. Where the hell is he? He doesn't want to call him to find out, even though that is obviously easier, but he’s angry and he feels like he needs to stay angry so he can say what he means—what he needs to say—and not feel bad about it.

He calls Enid to see if Negan is at his parent’s, but he isn’t. The only other place that he knows to look is the bonfire, but he doubts he would still be there. Still, he doesn't have any other options right now.

So he drives back to the stadium and parks his car, repeating the angry words he has saved for Negan over and over to make sure he doesn't forget anything in case he actually is here.

Approaching the field, he can see that almost everyone has left already and the fire is almost out. He walks around and squint in the dying light and stare at couples to see if they are Negan and Amy, without luck.

Just as he decides to stop looking, he finally does see Negan leaning against the fence by the goalpost. He is alone, and doesn’t seem to notice him walking toward him as he takes a seat on the grass, wiping his mouth. When he removes his hand, it looks red. Is he bleeding?

Suddenly Negan’s head snaps up as if he can sense Carl’s presence, and, yes, the corner of his mouth is bleeding and the shadow of a bruise is already forming on his cheek.

“What the hell—” Carl says and kneels down in front of him. “What happened to you?” he asks.

He looks up at him and his eyes are so haunted, Carl’s anger dissolves like sugar on his tongue.

“Why do you care? Where’s your date?” he says angrily.

Carl clicks his tongue gently and moves Negan’s hand away from his mouth, examining his busted lip. He jerks away from hum but Carl bites his tongue. “Tell me what happened,” he demands.

Negan sighs and runs his hand over his hair. His knuckles are busted and bloody. The cut on his index finger looks deep and very painful.

“Did you get in a fight?”

“What gave you that idea?” he says sarcastically.

“With who? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, now leave me alone.”

“I came here to find you,” Carl tells him and stands up, wiping the dead grass off his jeans.

“Okay. And you found me, so go.”

“You don’t have to be such an asshole,” he says. “I think you should go home and get cleaned up. You might need stitches on that knuckle.”

Negan doesn’t respond but stands up and walks past him. Carl came here to yell at him for being such an idiot and tell him how he feels, and Negan’s making it very hard—Carl knew he would.

“Where are you going?” Carl asks, following after him, beyond annoyed.

“Home. Well, I’m going to call Amy and see if she will come back and pick me up.”

“She left you here?” Carl doesn't like her at all.

“No. Well, technically, but I told her to.”

“Let me take you,” Carl says and grabs Negan’s jacket. Negan shrugs him off, and Carl wants to slap him. His anger is returning and he’s more pissed-off than before. The tables have turned; our whatever this is has shifted. He’s usually the one running from him.

“Stop walking away from me!” Carl yells and Negan turns around, eyes blazing. “I said let me take you home!” Carl screams.

Negan almost smiles but frowns instead and sighs. “Fine. Where’s your car?”

  
~O~

Negan’s scent immediately fills the car, only now there is a hint of metal mixed in; it’s still Carl’s favorite smell in the entire world. He turns the heat on and rub his arms to warm up.

“Why did you come here?” he asks as Carl pulls out of the parking lot.

“To find you.” He tries to remember everything he had planned to say, but his mind is blank and all he can think about is kissing Negan’s busted mouth.

“For what reason?” he asks quietly.

“To talk to you, we have so much to talk about.” Carl feels like yelling and laughing at the same time and he has no idea why.

“I thought you said we didn’t have anything to talk about,” Negan says and turns to look out the window with a coolness Carl suddenly finds beyond irritating.

“Do you love me?” The words come out rushed and strangled. Carl had not planned on saying them.

Negan head snaps to the side to look at him. “What?” His tone is one of shock.

“Do you?” Carl repeats, worrying that his heart might pop right out of his chest.

Negan focuses forward. “You are not seriously asking me this while we are driving down the street.”

“What does it matter where or when I’m asking, just tell me,” Carl practically begs.

“I - I don’t know. No, I don’t.” Negan looks around, almost like he needs to escape. “And you can’t just ask someone if they love you when they are trapped in a car with you—what the hell is wrong with you?” he says loudly.

Ouch. “Okay,” is all Carl can manage to say.

“Why do you even want to know?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Carl’s confused now, so confused, and his plan to talk out their problems has crashed and burned in front of him, along with any dignity he still held.

“Tell me why you asked me that, now,” Negan demands.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Carl shouts back.

Carl pulls up to Negan’s house and he looks out at the crowded lawn. “Take me to Hershel and Charlotte’s house,” he says.

“What? I’m not a damn taxi.”

“Just take me there, I will get my car in the morning.”

If his car is here, why doesn’t he just drive himself? Carl doesn't want their conversation to end yet, though, so he rolls his eyes, and heads off toward his parent’s house.

“I thought you hated it there,” Carl says.

“I do. But I don’t feel like being around a lot of people right now,” Negan says quietly. Then, louder, he goes on: “Are you going to tell me why you asked that? Does this have something to do with Dwight? Did he say something to you?”

Negan seems really nervous. Why does he always ask if Dwight said something to him?

“No. It has nothing to do with Dwight. I just wanted to know.” It doesn’t really have to do with Dwight; it has to do with the fact that Carl loves him and thought for a second, he might love him, too. The longer Carl’s around him, the more ridiculous that possibility seems.

“Where did you and Dwight go when you left the bonfire?” he asks as Carl pulls into his parent’s driveway.

“Back to his apartment,” Carl says.

Negan’s body tenses and his bloody fists clench, tearing the skin on his knuckles further. “Did you fuck him?” he asks and Carl’s mouth falls open.

“What? Why the hell would you assume that? You should know me better than that by now! And who do you think you are to even ask such a personal question? You made it clear that you don’t care about me so, what if I did?” He shouts.

“So you didn’t?” Negan asks again, his eyes like stone.

“God, Negan! No! He kissed me, but I wouldn’t have sex with someone I barely know!”

He leans over and turns Carl’s car off, clenching his bloody hand over the keys and pulling them out of the ignition.

“You kissed him back?” His eyes are hooded as he seems to look straight past Carl.

“Yeah, well, I don’t know, I think I did.” He doesn't remember anything except Negan’s face in his mind.

“How do you not know? Have you been drinking?” His voice is louder now.

“No, I just-”

“You fucking what!” Negan shouts and turns his body to face him. Carl can’t read the energy between them, and for a moment he sits there, trying to get a handle on it.

“I-I just kept thinking of you!” Carl finally admits.

Negan’s stone features soften tremendously and he brings his eyes to his. “Let’s go inside,” he says and opens the passenger door.

~O~

Charlotte and Hershel are sitting on the couch in the living room and both look up when they walk in.

“Negan! What happened?” Hershel asks, panicked. He jumps up and comes over to then, but Negan brushes him off.

“I’m fine,” Negan grumbles.

“What happened to him?” Charlotte turns to Carl.

“He got in a fight, but he hasn’t told me with who or why.”

“I'm standing right here—and I just said I’m fucking fine,” Negan says angrily.

“Don’t talk to Charlotte like that!” Carl scolds him and Negan’s eyes widen. Instead of screaming at him, Negan takes his wrist in his busted hand and pulls him out of the room. Hershel and Charlotte discuss Negan’s bloody appearance as he drags Carl upstairs, and he hears Hershel openly wonder why Negan keeps coming here when he never used to before.

Once they reach his room, he turns Carl around, pinning both of his wrists to the wall and steps up close, leaving only a few inches between them.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Negan says through his teeth.

“Do what? Let go of me, right now,” Carl tells him.

Negan rolls his eyes but does let him go and walks over to his bed. Carl stays close to the door.

“Don’t tell me how to talk to Charlotte. Worry about your own relationship with your own mother before trying to meddle with mine.”

As soon as the words come out of his mouth, Negan registers what he says, and he immediately looks apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It just came out.” He takes a step toward Carl with outstretched arms, but Carl takes a step backward into the doorway.

“Yeah—it always just ‘comes out,’ doesn’t it?” Carl can’t help the tears pricking his eyes. Bringing his mother into this is just way too much, even for Negan.

“Car, I...” he begins but stops himself when Carl holds up one hand.

What is he doing here? Why does he keep thinking Negan will stop the endless string of insults long enough to have an actual conversation with him? Because he’s an idiot, that’s why.

“It’s fine, really. That’s who you are; that’s what you do. You find people’s weakness and you exploit it. You use it to your advantage. How long have you been waiting to say something about my father? You’ve probably been waiting for an opening since you met me!” Carl shouts.

“Damn it! No I haven’t! I wasn’t thinking when I said that! You are not innocent here—you fucking provoke me on purpose!” he yells, even louder than Carl did.

“Provoke you? I provoke you! Please, do enlighten me!” He knows everyone in the house can hear. But, for once, he doesn't care.

“You always push my buttons! You constantly fight with me! You go on dates with Dwight—I mean, fuck! You think I like being this way? Do you think I like you having this control over me? I hate the way you get under my skin. I loathe the way I can’t seem to stop thinking about you! I hate you... I really do! You’re such a pretentious little-” He stops and looks at Carl. He forces himself to look back at him, putting on the charade that Negan didn’t just tear him apart with every syllable.

“This is what I am talking about!” Negan runs his hands over his hair as he paces back and forth across the room. “You fucking make me crazy, literally fucking mental! And then you have the nerve to ask if I fucking love you? Why would you even ask that? Because I said that one time, by accident? I told you already that I didn’t mean it, so why would you ask again? You like rejection—don’t you? That’s why you keep coming around me, isn’t it?”

All Carl wants to do is run, run out of this room and never, ever look back. He needs to run, he needs to flee.

He tries to stop it, but he has him in such a rage, Carl yell the thing he knows will get to him, break his control: “No, I keep coming around because I love you!”

Carl covers his mouth immediately, wishing he could push the words back in. He couldn’t possibly hurt him worse than he has, and he doesn't want to be left wondering years from now what he would have said if I told him. He’s okay with Negan not loving him. He got himself into this knowing how Negan was all along.

Negan looks astonished. “You what?” He blinks rapidly as if trying to process the words.

“Go on, tell me how much you hate me again. Go ahead and tell me how stupid I am for loving someone who can’t stand me,” Carl says, his voice coming out foreign and almost in a whine. He wipes his eyes and looks at him again, feeling as if he has been gravely defeated and need to leave the scene to bandage his wounds. “I’ll be going now.”

As Carl goes to turn, Negan takes one long stride to close the gap between them. Carl refuses to look at him as he puts his hand on his shoulder. “Damn it, don’t go,” he says, his voice full of emotion.

Which emotion is the question.

“You love me?” Negan whispers and puts his busted hand under Carl’s chin to tilt his head to him. Carl darts his eyes away from his and nods slowly, waiting for him to laugh in his face.

“Why?” His breath comes in a hot burst against his face.

Carl finally brings his eyes to his and he looks afraid? “What?” He asks softly.

“Why do you love... how could you possibly love me?” Negan’s voice cracks and he stares at him, and Carl feels like the words he say next will determine his fate more than anything he has ever done before.

“How could you not know that I love you?” He asks instead of answering him.

He doesn’t think Carl would love him? He has no explanation except that he just does. Negan drives him crazy, makes him angrier than he has ever been, but somehow he fell for him, hard.

“You told me you didn’t. And you went out with Dwight. You always leave me; you left me on the porch earlier when I begged you for another chance. I told you I loved you, and you rejected me. Do you know how hard that was for me?” he says.

Carl must be imagining the tears welling in the corners of Negan’s eyes, though he’s too aware of his callused fingers under his chin.

“You took it back before I could even process what you said. You’ve done a lot of things to hurt me, Negan,” Carl tells him and Negan nods.

“I know. I’m so fucking sorry. Let me make it up to you? I know I don’t deserve you. I don’t have the right to even be asking this but please, just one chance. I’m not promising not to fight with you, or get mad at you, but I’m promising to give myself to you, completely. Please, just let me try to be what you need.” Negan sounds so unsure of himself, it turns Carl’s insides to liquid.

“I want to think this can work, but I just don’t know how it could, so much damage has already been done.”

But his eyes betray him as the tears fall. Negan brings his fingers up from Carl’s chin and captures them, even as a single tear escapes down Negan’s own cheek.

“Do you remember when you asked me who I love the most in the world?” he asks, his lips inches from his.

Carl nods, though it seems so long ago, and he didn’t think Negan was even paying attention.

“It’s you. You’re the person that I love most in the world.”

His words surprise him and dissolves the ache and the anger in his chest.

Before Carl will let himself believe him and turn him to putty in Negan’s arms, he asks, “This isn’t part of your sick game, is it?”

“No, Carl. I’m done with the games. I just want you. I want to be with you, in a real relationship. You’ll have to teach me what in the hell that even means, of course.” He laughs nervously and Carl joins him with earnest laughter of his own.

“I have missed your laugh. I haven’t heard it enough. I want to be the one to make you laugh, not cry. I know I'm a lot to handle—”

Carl cuts him off by pressing his lips against his. His kisses are rushed and he can taste blood from his cut. Carl’s knees want to buckle from the electricity shooting through him, it seems so long ago that he last felt his mouth on his. He loves this damaged, self-loathing asshole so much that he’s afraid it will crush him. Negan lifts him up and Carl wraps his thighs around him, tangling his fingers into his hair. Negan moans into his mouth and Carl gasps, pulling harder. His tongue runs over his bottom lip and when Negan winces, Carl pulls away.

“Who did you get in a fight with?” He asks and Negan laughs.

“You’re asking that now?”

“Yeah, I want to know.” Carl smiles.

“You always have so many questions. Can’t I answer them later?” He pouts.

“No, tell me.”

“Only if you’ll stay.” He holds Carl against him tighter. “Please?” he begs.

“Okay,” Carl says and kisses him again, completely forgetting about his question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter of the week! See you in one or two weeks! Hopefully we get some more Carl/Negan scenes during the season 7 finale :-0


	11. ELEVEN

  
Eventually they stop kissing and Carl goes to sit at the foot of the bed, and Negan follows him, sitting up by the headboard.

“Okay, now tell me who you fought with; was it Dwight?” Carl asks, afraid of his answer.

“No. It was just a few random guys.”

Carl’s relieved it wasn’t Dwight, but then he registers what Negan actually said. “Wait, a few? How many?”

“Three or four. I'm not really sure.” Negan laughs.

“It’s not funny—why were you fighting, anyway?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I was pissed that you left with Dwight and it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Well, it’s not a good idea, and now look how busted up you are.” Carl frowns and Negan cocks his head to the side with a puzzled expression. “What?”

“Nothing. Come here,” Negan says and holds his arms out to him. Carl moves across the bed and leans back on him between his legs.

“I’m sorry for the way I treated, well, treat you,” Negan says quietly into Carl’s ear.

A shiver runs through Carl's body from Negan’s breath in his ear and Negan’s unforced apology. “It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay. But I’m going to give you one more chance.”

Carl hopes he doesn’t make him regret it. He doesn't think he can handle any more hot and cold from him.

“Thank you, I know I don’t deserve it. But I’m selfish enough to take it,” he says, his mouth against Carl’s hair. Negan wraps his arms around him, and sitting with him like this feels foreign and nostalgic at the same time.

When Carl stays silent he turns his shoulders slightly to have Carl looks at him. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing. I’m just afraid that you’ll change your mind again,” Carl says. He wants to dive into this headfirst but is desperately afraid he will hit the bottom.

“I won’t. I have never changed my mind. I’ve just fought my feelings for you. I know you can’t trust my words alone, but I want to earn your trust. I won’t hurt you again,” Negan promises and leans his forehead against his.

“Please don’t,” Carl begs. He doesn't care how pathetic he sounds.

“I love you, Carl,” he says and Carl’s heart leaps out of his chest. The words sound perfect coming off his lips and he would do anything to be able to hear them again.

“I love you, Negan.” This is the first time they have both openly said the words, and Carl fights down his urge to panic over the possibility that he could take them back again. Even if he does, he will always have the memory of how they sounded, how they made him feel.

“Say it again,” Negan whispers and turns Carl around to face him. In his eyes Carl sees more vulnerability than he had thought possible for him. He moves to his knees and take his face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over the light stubble on Negan’s perfect face. He can tell by his expression that he needs him to say it, over and over again.

Carl will say it as many times as he has to until he believes that he is worthy of someone loving him.

“I love you,” Carl repeats and covers his lips with his own. Negan hmms in appreciation as his tongue grazes gently over his.

Kissing Negan feels new and different each time, and he is like a drug that Carl can’t get enough of. His hands press against the small of Carl’s back, bringing their chests together. His mind is telling him to take it slow, to kiss him gently and to savor each second of this gentle calm between them. But his body is telling him to grab a fistful of his hair and pull his shirt over his head. Negan’s lips travel down his jaw and attach themselves to his neck.

That does it. Carl can’t control himself anymore. This is then, all anger and passion and now love. An involuntary moan escapes his lips and Negan groans against his neck, grabbing Carl’s waist and flipping them over so he is hovering over him.

“I . . . have . . . missed you . . . so much,” he says in between sucking the skin on Carl’s neck.

Carl can’t keep his eyes open; it feels too good. Negan unzips Carl’s jacket and looks down at him with hungry eyes. He doesn’t ask for Carl’s permission before tugging at the fabric, pulling his tank top up and over his head, and he sucks in a sharp breath as Carl arches his back.

“I have missed your body . . . the way you fit perfectly in my hand,” Negan growls as he palms he squeezes Carl’s ass.

Carl moans again and Negan presses his lower body against his so Carl can feel Negan’s arousal pressed against his lower stomach. Their breathing is rapid and uncontrolled, and he has never wanted him more. It seems the admission of their feelings hasn’t lessened the overwhelming passion between them. He’s glad.

Negan’s hand glides down over Carl’s bare stomach and pops open the button on his jeans. As his fingers slide into Carl’s boxers, Negan gasps into his mouth. “I have missed how hard you always are for me.”

Negan words do wicked things to him, and Carl lifts his hips again, begging for contact.

“What do you want, Carl?” Negan breathes heavily into the crook of his neck.

“You,” Carl answers before his mind can process what he just said. But he knows it’s true: he wants Negan in the most primal, deep way possible. Negan hand wraps easily around his cock and Carl head falls back against the pillow as he jerks him off, teasing him.

“I love to watch you, to see how good I make you feel,” he says and Carl moans in response. Carl’s hands fist Negan’s T-shirt at his back. He has too many clothes on, but Carl can’t form a coherent sentence to demand their removal. How do they go from “I hate you” to “I love you” to this? He doesn't care for the answer, though—all he cares about is the way Negan is making him feel, the way he always makes him feel. Negan’s body slides down his and he removes his hand from Carl’s pants. He whines from the loss of contact and Negan smiles.

As he pulls down Carl jeans and boxers, he gestures at Negan’s fully clothed body. “Undress,” Carl says, and Negan chuckles.

“Yes, sir.” He smirks and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his toned skin. Carl wants to run his tongue along every single line on every single tattoo.

Carl no longer has interest in his tattoo or why he got it. He just wants to touch him, to feel his mouth on his.

Before either of them can ruin the moment with words, he grabs hold of Negan’s hair and pulls his face to his. Carl kisses him briefly on his lips before moving to his neck. From his experience in pleasuring Negan, he knows that the spot on his neck just above his collarbone drives him crazy. He plants wet and warm kisses against there, feeling his body jerk and tense as Carl lifts his hips to him again. The feeling of his bare body on top of his is exquisite. All of their bare skin is already starting to shine a little with perspiration. If one small movement is made, this will be taken to another level. A level that Carl has never been ready to reach until now. The flexing of Negan’s hard muscles as he slowly rubs himself against him, moaning, is too much for Carl to resist.

“Negan . . .” Carl moans as Negan glides against him again.

“Yes, baby?” He stops moving. Carl brings his feet to Negan’s thighs and forces him to move again. Negan’s eyes flutter closed. “Fuck,” Negan moans.

“I want to.” Carl says.

“You want to what?” His breath is hot and heavy against Carl’s clammy skin.

“I want to go all the way.” Carl says, finding himself suddenly embarrassed despite their intimate position.

“Oh,” he says. He stops moving again and stares into Carl’s eyes. Negan seems to be wagering some internal battle with himself. “Baby… that really isn't a good idea…”

What?

“Why?” Carl pushes Negan off him.

Here they go again.

“No...I just mean for tonight.” Negan wraps his arms around Carl and puts him on my side, lying next to him. Carl can’t look at him, he’s too humiliated.

“Listen, fucking look at me,” he says, tilting Carl’s chin. “I want to, fuck do I want to. More than anything, trust me. I have wanted to feel you around me since I met you, but I just think after everything today… I just want you to be ready. I mean all the way ready, because once we do this, it’s done. You can’t take it back.”

  
Negan words make sense but something feels off. Maybe it's nothing?

Carl’s humiliation eases and he looks at Negan. He knows he is right, he knows he needs to think about this more, but he has a hard time believing that his answer will be any different tomorrow. He should think about it when he’s not under the influence of his naked body grinding against his. He’s worse than alcohol running through Carl’s veins.

“Don’t be upset with me, please, just think about it for a little while, and if you’re sure that’s what you want to do, I will gladly fuck you. Over and over, when and where you want. I want to—”

“Okay!” Carl brings his hand up to cover Negan’s mouth. Negan laughs against Carl’s palm and shrugs his shoulders as if to say, “Just saying.”

When Carl removes his hand, Negan playfully bites his palm and pulls Carl to him. “I guess I should put some clothes on so you aren’t so tempted,” Negan teases and Carl chuckles.

Carl can’t decide which aspect of this is more surprising: the fact that he just suggested they have sex, or the fact that Negan actually has enough respect for him to turn him down.

“But first, let me make you feel good,” Negan mutters and flips Carl onto his back in one swift motion. His mouth ducks down between Carl’s legs, and within minutes his legs are shaking and he’s covering his mouth with his hand to keep from screaming Negan’s name for everyone to hear.

~O~

Carl wakes up to Negan snoring lightly, his lips pressed to his ear. Carl’s back is tight against his chest and his legs are hooked around his. Memories from last night bring a smile to his lips, before the euphoric feeling is replaced by panic.

Will he feel the same in the light of day? Or will he torture and taunt Carl for offering himself to him? Carl rolls over slowly to face him, to examine his perfect features while his permanent frown is smoothed by sleep. He reaches out and runs his index finger over his eyebrow, then down to the bruise on his cheek. His lip looks better, as do his knuckles, since he finally agreed to let Carl help him wash them off last night.

His eyes snap open as Carl’s finger greedily traces his lips. “What are you doing?” he asks. Carl can’t decipher his tone, which makes him uneasy.

“Sorry… I don't…” He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what type of mood Negan will be in after they fall asleep in each other’s arms.

“Don’t you dare stop,” Negan whispers and closes his eyes again. Half of the weight on Carl’s chest disappears and he smiles before tracing over the shape of his plump lips again, careful to avoid his injury.

“What are your plans for today?” he asks a few minutes later, reopening his eyes.

“I actually have plans with Charlotte to work on her greenhouse out back,” Carl tells him and Negan sits up.

“Really?” He must be mad. Carl knows he doesn’t like Charlotte that much, even though she is one of the sweetest people Carl has ever met.

“Yeah,” Carl mumbles.

“Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about my family liking you. I think they probably like you better than they do me.” He chuckles and runs the pad of his thumb across Carl’s cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. “The problem with that is, if I keep hanging out here Hershel may start to believe I actually like him,” he says, his tone light but his eyes dark.

“Maybe you and Hershel could hang out or something while Charlotte and I are outside?” Carl suggests lightly .

“No, definitely not,” he growls. “I’ll go back to my house, my real house, and wait for you to be done.”

“I wanted you to stay here, though; it may take a while. Her greenhouse is in pretty bad shape,” Carl says.

Negan seems to be at a loss for words, which makes Carl’s heart warm at the thought that he doesn’t want to be away from him for very long. “I don’t know, Carl. My father probably doesn’t want to hang out with me anyway,” he mumbles.

“Of course he does. When is the last time you two were even in the same room alone together?”

Negan shrugs. “I don’t know, years? I don’t know if this is a good idea,” he says, running his hands over his head.

“If you get uncomfortable, you can always join Charlotte and me outside,” Carl assures him. Frankly, he’s astonished that Negan is considering spending time with his father.

“Fine, but I’m only doing this because the thought of leaving you, even for a little while . . .” He stops. Carl knows Negan isn’t good at expressing how he feels, so he stays quiet, giving him time to collect himself. “Well, let’s just say it’s worse than hanging out with my prick of a father.”

Carl smiles, despite the harsh words against his adoptive dad. Carl hopes that Negan will move on from this animosity he holds over Hershel for adopting him and moving from South Carolina. After Carl climbs out of bed, he remembers that he has no clothes with him, no toothbrush, nothing.

“I need to go by my room and grab some things,” Carl tells him and Negan tenses.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t have any clothes, and I need to brush my teeth,” Carl says. When he looks at Negan, he has a small smile on his face but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “What’s wrong?” Carl asks, afraid of the answer.

“Nothing. How long will you be gone?”

“Well, I was assuming you would come with me?” As the words leave his mouth, Negan visibly relaxes. What is with him?

“Oh.”

“Are you going to tell me why you are being weird?” Carl asks curiously.

“I’m not. I just thought you were trying to leave. Leave me.” His voice is so small and unlike him that Carl gets the urge to walk over and cradle him. Instead, he gestures for him to come to him and Negan nods before getting up and standing in front of him.

“I’m not going anywhere. I just need some clothes,” Carl repeats to clarify.

“I know . . . it’s just going to take a little getting used to. I’m used to you running away from me, not leaving and coming back.”

“Well, I’m used to you pushing me away from you, so we both just have some adjusting to do.” Carl smiles and lays his head on his chest. He feels oddly comforted by his worry. He has been terrified that Negan would change his mind this morning and it feels good to know he was just as afraid.

“Yeah, I guess we do. I love you,” he says, and it hits Carl just as hard as it did the first time, and the twentieth, last night.

“And I love you, too,” Carl says and Negan frowns again.

“Don’t say too,” he says.

“What? Why?” Carl’s doubt is on call, waiting for him to deny him, yet hoping that he won’t.

“It makes me feel like you are just agreeing with me.” He looks down. Carl remembers the promise he made to himself last night that he would do whatever he can to help Negan conquer his self doubt.

“I love you,” Carl says and Negan looks up at him. Negan’s eyes soften and he gently presses his lips against his.

“Thank you,” he says when he pulls away.

Carl rolls his eyes at how flawless he looks in a plain white T-shirt and black jeans. He never wears anything except plain white or black T-shirts and black jeans every single day, but he looks perfect, every single day. He doesn’t need to follow whatever trend is hot; his simple style suits him so well. Carl puts on his clothes from last night and Negan grabs his bag for him before they head downstairs.

They find Charlotte and Hershel in the living room. “I made some breakfast,” Charlotte says cheerfully.

Carl feels slightly uncomfortable with Charlotte and Hershel knowing he stayed with Negan, again. He knows they seem to be perfectly fine with it, and they are adults, but that doesn’t stop his cheeks from blushing.

“Thank you.” He smiles and she gives him a curious look; he knows he will get some questions when they are in the greenhouse. He walks into the kitchen and Negan follows. They both fill their plates with food and sit at the table.

“Are Enid and Ron here?” Carl asks Charlotte when she comes in. Ron will probably be confused seeing him with Negan again after being with Dwight last night, but he shakes off the negative thoughts.

“No, they went to Atlanta for the day to do some shopping. Were you still wanting to work on the greenhouse today?”

“Yes, of course. I just have to run to my room and change my clothes,” Carl tells her.

“Excellent! I’ll have Hershel bring the bags of soil out from the shed while you’re gone.”

“If you wait until we get back, Negan can help him?” Carl half-asks, half-offers, looking to Negan.

“Oh, you will be around today as well?” she asks, her smile growing. How can Negan not see that people care about him?

“Uh, yeah. I was going to just hang out here today I guess. If that’s cool with y-you?” he stutters.

“Of course! Hershel! Did you hear that, Negan is going to be here all day!” Her excitement makes Carl smile and Negan roll his eyes.

“Be nice,” Carl whispers in his ear as Negan plasters the fakest smile Carl has ever seen across his face. Then Carl laughs lowly and kicks his foot with his.

~O~

Carl removes his clothes and takes a quick shower, even though he's going to get dirty gardening with Charlotte. Negan waits patiently, fiddling through Carl's underwear drawer to keep himself busy. When Carl's done, Negan tells him to pack enough clothes to spend another night with him, which makes him smile. Carl would spend every night with him if he could.

As they drive back, Carl asks him, “Do you want to get your car and take it to your dad’s?”

“No, I’m okay. As long as you stop swerving all over the road.”

“Shut up. I’m an excellent driver,” Carl says defensively.

Negan snorts but keeps his mouth shut. “So what made you decide to get a car, anyway?”

“Well, I got the internship, and I didn’t want to keep taking the bus or depending on other people to take me places.”

He looks out the window. “Oh. Did you go alone?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Just wondering,” Negan lies.

“I was alone; that was a bad day for me,” Carl says and Negan flinches.

“How many times did you and Dwight hang out?” he asks.

Why is he bringing this up now? “Twice: we went to dinner and a movie, then the bonfire. It wasn’t anything for you to worry about.”

“He only kissed you once?”

“Yes, only once. Well, besides the time that you saw. Now can we move on from this? You don’t see me asking about Sherry, do you?” Carl says, annoyed.

“Fucking damn, okay. Let’s not fight. This is the longest we have ever gotten along, so let’s not ruin it,” he says and reaches for Carl’s hand. His thumb rubs small circles on his skin.

“Okay,” Carl says, still slightly annoyed. The image of Sherry on his lap makes his vision blur.

“Aww, come on, Carl. Don’t pout.” He laughs and pokes his side.

Carl can’t help but let out a shriek. “Don’t distract me! I’m driving!”

“This is probably the only time you’ll ever tell me not to touch you.”

“Not likely—don’t be so full of yourself.”

They're laughter blends together and it’s a lovely sound. He brings his hand to Carl’s thigh and rubs his long fingers up and down.

“You sure?” his raspy voice whispers and Carl’s skin tingles. His body responds to him so quickly, his pulse drumming heavily. He gulps and nods, causing him to sigh and pull his hand away. “I know that’s not true but I’d rather not have you driving off the road, so I’ll just have to finger you later.”

Carl pushes his arm, blushing. “Negan!”

“Sorry, baby.” He smiles, raising his hands in mock innocence and looking out the window. Carl loves when he calls him baby; no one has called him that before. Lydia and him had always thought that the ridiculous pet names people called each other were too juvenile for them, but when Negan calls him something, his blood sings in his veins.

When they get back to his father’s house, Hershel and Charlotte are in the backyard waiting for them. Hershel looks out of his element in jeans and a GSU T-shirt. Carl has never seen him dressed so casually, and in fact he looks a little like Negan this way. They greet them with a smile that Negan tries to return, but he looks uncomfortable as he shifts on his heels and buries his hands in his pockets.

“Ready when you are,” Hershel says to Negan. He looks just as uncomfortable as Negan, though he’s more nervous, whereas Negan seems apprehensive.

Negan looks at Carl and Carl gives him an encouraging nod, surprised that he has suddenly become someone he looks at for reassurance. It seems that their dynamic has changed dramatically, making me happy in a way he hadn’t expected.

“We will be in the greenhouse, so just bring the soil in there,” Charlotte says and gives Hershel a small kiss on the cheek. Negan looks away from them, and for a second Carl thinks he may give him a kiss, too, but he doesn’t. Carl follows Charlotte to the greenhouse and when they walk inside he gasps. It’s huge, bigger than it looks from outside, and she wasn’t joking when she said it needs a lot of work. It is practically empty.

Dramatically, she puts her hands on her hips with chipper glee. “It is quite the project, but I think we can do it.”

“I think so, too,” Carl says.

Negan and Hershel come in, carrying two bags of soil each. They are both silent as they drop them where Charlotte directs before walking back out. Twenty bags of soil and hundreds of seeds and dozens of flowers and vegetable plants later, they have a pretty good start.

  
~O~

Before Carl realizes it, the sunlight has started to fade and he hasn't seen Megan in a few hours. He hopes he and Hershel are both still alive.

“I think we’ve done enough for today,” Charlotte says and wipes her face. They are both covered in dirt.

“Yeah, I better check on Negan,” Carl tells her and she laughs.

“It means a lot to us, Hershel especially, that Negan has been coming around more, and I know we have you to thank for that. I take it that you two worked out your differences?”

“Sort of? I guess we did.” Carl lets out a little laugh. “We are still very different.” If only she knew.

She gives him a knowing smile. “Well, different is sometimes what we need. It’s good to be challenged.”

“Well, he is definitely challenging.”

They both laugh and she pulls him in for a hug. “You great young man, you have done more for us than you know.” Carl nods, not knowing what to say.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve been staying overnight. Negan has asked me to stay again,” Carl tells her and tries not to make eye contact.

“No, of course not. You both are adults, and I trust you’re being safe.”

Oh God. He knows his cheeks are a deeper shade of red than the bulbs they just planted. “We… don’t,” he stammers. Why is he talking about this with Negan’s soon-to-be stepmother? If that's even that proper word. He’s mortified.

“Oh,” she says, equally embarrassed. “Let’s go inside.”

He follows her into the house, where they both take their dirty shoes off at the door. He can see into the living room, where Negan is sitting on the edge of the couch and Hershel is in the easy chair. Negan’s eyes immediately find his and relief flushes through them.

“I’ll make some late dinner while you get cleaned up,” Charlotte says.

Negan stands up and walks over to him. He seems glad to be out of the room with his father.

“We’ll be back down soon,” Carl says and follows Negan up the stairs.

“How was it?” Carl asks as they enter his room.

Instead of answering him, Negan threads his fingers through Carl’s ear and brings his lips to his. They stagger back against the door and he presses his body against his. “I missed you.”

Carl’s insides liquefy. “You did?”

“Yes, I did. I just spent the last few hours with Hershel in awkward silence, and then sharing a few even more awkward comments here and there. I need a distraction.” Negan runs his tongue along Carl’s bottom lip and Carl’s breath catches in his throat. This is different. Welcome, and very hot, but different.

His hands travel down Carl’s stomach and stops at the button on his jeans.

“Negan, I need a shower. I’m covered in dirt,” Carl says, laughing.

Negan’s tongue runs along his neck. “I like you this way, nice and dirty.” He gives Carl that smile with those dimples.

But Carl gently pushes him back and grabs his bag before heading to the bathroom. His breathing is ragged and he’s a little disoriented, so when he tries to close the bathroom door only to have it stop midway, he’s confused. Until he looks down and sees Negan’s boot.

“Can I join you?” Negan smiles and pushes his way into the bathroom before Carl can answer.

~O~

Negan’s fingers grip the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head, and he reaches behind Carl to turn on the shower.

“We can’t just take a shower together! We’re at your house, and Enid and Ron could be back anytime,” Carl says shakily. The idea of seeing Negan completely naked under the shower makes him squirm but this is too much.

“Well, then I’m going to take a nice hot shower while you stand there and overanalyze.” His pants drop to the floor, along with his boxers, and Negan steps past him and into the water. The bare skin on his back is tight, pulled against the muscles there. Negan faces him, his eyes moving up and down Carl’s covered body, the way his are on his naked one. The water covers him, making his toned skin glisten. Carl doesn't realize he’s staring until Negan closes the curtain abruptly, hiding his perfect figure.

“Don’t you just love a hot shower after a long day?” His voice is muffled somewhat by the sound of the water, but Carl can still catch its smugness.

“I wouldn’t know; some rude naked guy stole my shower,” He huffs and hears Negan chuckle.

“A sexy rude naked guy?” Negan teases. “Just come in before the hot water goes away.”

“I . . .” Carl wants to, but taking a shower with someone is just so intimate, too intimate.

“Come on, live a little. It’s just a shower,” he says and opens the curtain. “Please.” He reaches his hand out and Carl’s eyes scan his long, inked torso, gleaming from the water sliding down his skin.

“Okay,” He whispers and undresses while Negan watches every move he makes. “Stop staring,” Carl scolds him and he pretends to be wounded, placing his hand over his heart.

“Are you questioning my nobility?” He laughs and Carl nods slowly, trying to fight his smile. “I’m insulted.”

He reaches his hand out to help, and Carl can’t believe he’ actually doing this, showering with someone. He tries his best to cover himself with his hands arms as he waits for him to move from under the water.

“Is it weird that I love how you’re still shy around me?” he says, unfolding Carl’s arms, removing his shield. Carl stays quiet and Negan gently tugs his arms to bring him more under the water, which he’s blocking with his body. His head dips down, soaking Carl’s bare shoulder.

“I think it’s so appealing to me because you’re so shy and innocent, yet you let me do dirty things to you.” His breath feels hotter than the water against Carl’s ear. Carl blinks as Negan’s hands travel down his arms slowly. “And I know for a fact that you like when I say dirty things to you.”

Carl gulps and Negan smiles against his neck. “See how your pulse quickens . . . I can practically see it under your delicate skin.” He taps his index finger over the pulse point in Carl’s neck. Carl has no idea how he’s standing; his legs have turned to mush, along with his brain.

Negan’s fingers running over Carl’s body make him stop worrying about the fact that they aren’t alone in the house; they make him want to be reckless and let Negan do whatever he wants to him. When his long fingers wrap around his hips, Carl involuntarily leans into him.

“I love you, Carl. You believe me, don’t you?” he asks.

Carl nods, wondering why he is asking him this right now, after they have said it so many times in the last twenty-four hours. “Yes, I believe you.” His voice is hoarse and Carl clears his throat.

“Good. I have never loved anyone before.” He goes from playful to seductive to serious so fast, Carl can barely keep up.

“Ever?” He thinks he already knew this, but it feels so different actually having him say the words, especially when they are like this. He thought he would have his head between his legs right now, not be expressing his feelings.

“No, never. Not even close,” he admits.

Carl wonders if he has ever had a boyfriend before—no, he doesn't want to know if he has. He told him he doesn’t date, so he’s going to stick with that.

“Oh,” is all Carl can say.

“Do you love me the way you loved Lydia?” he asks.

A sound between a cough and a gasp comes out of Carl’s mouth, and he looks away from him. He grabs the shampoo off the shelf. He hasn't even washed anything yet and they have been in here several minutes already.

“Well?” he presses.

Carl doesn't know how to answer that. It’s totally different with Negan than it was with Lydia. He loved Lydia, he thinks. He knows he loved her, just not like this. Loving Lydia was comfortable and safe; it was always calm. Loving Negan is raw and exciting; it sparks his every nerve and he can’t get enough of him. He never wants to be away from him. Even when Negan drove him crazy, he missed him and had to fight himself to stay away. It was torture.

  
“I take that as a no,” Negan says and turns away from Carl, letting him have full access to the water. Carl feels cramped in the tiny space and the air is too thin, too clouded with steam from the hot water.

“It’s not the same.” How do Carl explain this to him without sounding insane? Negan’s shoulders slack. Carl knows if he was to face him Negan would be frowning. Carl’s hands wrap around his waist and he presses his lips against his back. “It’s not the same, but not how you’re thinking that means,” he says. “I love you in a different way. Lydia was so comfortable to me she was almost like family. I felt like I was supposed to love her but I really didn’t, not in the way I love you at least. It wasn’t until I realized I loved you that I saw how different love was from what I thought it was. I don’t know if that even makes sense.” A pang of guilt hits him for saying he doesn't love Lydia, but he thinks he knew that from the moment he kissed Negan for the first time.

“It does.” When he turns back around, his eyes are much softer. The lust, then apprehension are gone, replaced by love? Or relief? Carl can’t tell but Negan leans down and kisses his forehead. “I just want to be the only person you ever love; that way you are mine.”

How could he be such a jerk before and say these loving things to him now? Despite the hint of possessiveness in his tone, his words are sweet and surprisingly humble for him.

“In the ways that count, you are,” Carl promises him. Negan seems pleased with his answer as Negan smile returns.

“Now, can you move so I can get this dirt off me before the water goes cold?” Carl says and gently pushes him out of his way.

“I’ll do that for you.” He grabs the cloth and pours soap on it. Carl holds his breath the entire time he gently scrubs the dirt off his body, and shiver as he passes over the sensitive spots, his touch lingering on them.

“I would have you wash me, but I won’t be able to stop what would happen after.” Negan winks at him and Carl blushes. He wants to find out what would happen after, and he would love to touch every inch of his body. But Charlotte has probably already finished cooking and might come looking for them soon.

He knows the responsible thing to do would be to agree to leave the shower, but it’s hard to concentrate on being responsible when he’s naked in front of him. He reaches for him, gripping his length in his palm, and he steps back against the shower wall. Negan stares at him as Carl pumps him slowly in his hand.

“Car,” he groans, resting his head back against the tiled wall.

Carl keeps his hand on him, willing him to groan again. He just loves the noises he makes. He glances down, admiring the way the water is spraying them, helping his hand to glide easily over Negan’s cock.

“You make me feel so fucking good.”

Negan’s gaze on him makes him a little nervous, but the way his teeth are pressed together and the way his eyelids flutter, it’s as if he’s trying to keep them open to urge Carl to pleasure him further. Carl’s thumb rubs across the head of his penis and he curses under his breath.

“I’m going to come now, already. Fuck.” His eyes close and Carl feels the warmth of his release mix with the hot water, and he can’t help but stare until only the water is left on his hand. Negan leans over, out of breath, and presses a kiss to Carl’s mouth.

“Fucking amazing,” he whispers, kissing him again.

After Carl is dirt-free and feeling calm, yet wound up from Negan’s touch, he dries off quickly and puts on his pants and a T-shirt from his bag, then brushes his hair away from his face. Negan wraps a towel around his waist and stands behind Carl, watching him through the mirror. Negan looks so heavenly and godlike and perfect and mine.

“Those pants are going to be distracting,” he says.

“Have you always been such a pervert?” Carl teases and Negan nods.

  
~O~

It isn't until they walk downstairs into the kitchen that Carl realizes how the look, both coming down with wet hair. It is obvious that they just showered together. Negan doesn’t seem to mind, but then, he has no manners.

“There are some sandwiches over on the counter,” Charlotte proclaims cheerily, pointing near where Hershel sits with a stack of folders in front of him. She doesn’t seem to be surprised or mind their appearance; his father would lose his mind if he knew what Carl just did. Especially with someone like Negan.

“Thank you so much,” He tells her.

“I had a nice time today, Carl,” Charlotte says, and they start discussing the greenhouse again while they each gather up a sandwich and sit down to eat.

Negan eats in silence, glancing at him from time to time.

“Maybe we can do some more work next weekend,” Carl suggests, then catches himself. “Never mind, the weekend after,” he says, laughing.

“Yes, of course.”

“Uh, is there a theme or something with the wedding?” Negan interrupts.

Hershel looks up from his work.

“Well, there isn’t really a theme, but we have chosen white and black for the décor,” Charlotte says nervously. Carl’s sure this is the only discussion they’ve had with Negan about the wedding since he lost it when Hershel told him about it.

“Oh. So what should I wear?” he asks casually. Carl wants to reach over and kiss him after seeing Hershel’s reaction.

“You’re coming?” Hershel asks, clearly surprised but very happy.

“Yeah. I guess.” Negan shrugs and takes another bite of his sandwich.

Charlotte and Hershel smile at each other before Hershel gets up and walks over to Hardin. “Thank you, son, this means a lot to me.” He pats Negan on the shoulder. Negan stiffens but rewards his father with a small smile.

“This is great news!” Charlotte says and claps her hands.

“It’s nothing,” Negan grumbles. Carl moves to sit next to him and puts his hand over his under the table. He never thought he could get him to agree to the wedding, let alone actually talk about it in front of Hershel and Charlotte.

“I love you,” Carl whispers in his ear when Charlotte and Hershel aren’t paying attention.

Negan smiles and squeezes his hand. “I love you,” he whispers back.

“So, Negan, how are your classes going?” Hershel asks.

“Good.”

“I noticed you moved your classes around again.”

“Yeah, and?”

“You’re still majoring in graphic design, right?” Hershel goes on, unwittingly pressing his luck; Carl can see that Negan is getting annoyed.

“Yep.”

“That’s great! I remember when you were ten and you would draw that baseball park up the street from your old foster home. Remember that stretch of the baseball with the barb wire? Everyone loved! I knew you were an art whiz then,” Hershel says.

“Do you? Do you remember that?” Negan’s tone is harsh. Carl squeezes his hand, trying to signal him to calm down.

“Yeah, of course I do,” Hershel says calmly.

Negan’s nostrils flare and he rolls his eyes. “Fucking really? I remember that was the same night the police take me from my mother and I had no idea she even drug overdosed until three months later. That was the park she use to take me to so don't you fucking dare bring that shit up to me again. Don't try to take a stroll down memory lane with me unless you know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Negan stands up as Charlotte and Carl both gasp.

“Negan!” Hershel says as Negan leaves the room.

Carl scurries after him and hears Charlotte yelling at Hershel. “You shouldn’t have gone that far with him, Hershel! He just agreed to come to our wedding. I thought we agreed on baby steps! Then you go and say something like that. You should have left it alone!”

Although she sounds mad, Carl can tell from the breaks in her voice that Charlotte is really already crying.

~O~

Negan slams his bedroom door as Carl reaches the top of the stairs. He turns the knob, half-expecting it to be locked, but it opens.

“Negan, are you okay?” He asks, unsure what else to say.

Negan answers him by grabbing the lamp off the nightstand and slamming it against the wall. The glass base shatters from the impact. Carl jumps back and a small shriek comes out against his will. Negan paces over to the desk, grabs the small keyboard, and rips it out of the desktop computer, tossing it behind him.

“Negan, please stop!” Carl yells.

He doesn’t look at him, but knocks the monitor to the ground and starts yelling, “Why? Why, Carl? It’s not like he can’t afford to buy a new fucking computer!”

“You’re right,” Carl says and steps on top of the keyboard, crushing it further.

“What? What are you doing?” he asks as Carl picks it up and drops it back on the ground. He’s not really sure what he’s doing but the keyboard’s already broken, and this seems like the best idea at the moment.

“I’m helping you,” Carl tells him, and confusion flashes in Negan’s angry eyes before humor takes over. Carl picks up the monitor and throws it against the floor. Negan walks over with a small smile on his lips as Carl picks it up again, but Negan’s hands stop his and he takes the monitor out of his hands and sits it on the desk.

“You’re not mad at me for yelling at Hershel like that?” Negan asks, and cups Carl’s cheeks, his thumbs gently caressing them as his hazel eyes bore into his.

“No, you have every right to express yourself. I would never be mad about that.” He just had a fight with his dad but he is worried about Carl being mad at him? “Unless of course you’re being mean for no reason, which in this case you weren’t.”

“Fucking wow…” Negan says.

But the small gap between their lips is too tempting. Carl leans forward and presses his lips against his, and Negan immediately opens his mouth, deepening the kiss. Carl’s fingers twist into his hair and Negan groans as Carl puts more force into it. His anger rolls off him like a tidal wave. Carl pushes him back a little and Negan turns him around so the bottom of Carl’s back hits the desk. His hands attach to Carl’s hips and he lifts him onto the desk. Carl is his distraction. The thought of him being what Negan needs makes him feel needed in a way he wasn’t aware of. He feels more solid now, more necessary in Negan’s life, and Carl’s head tilts back as he continues to push his tongue against his, standing between his legs.

“Closer,” he moans into Carl’s mouth. His hands grip the back of Carl’s knees and he pulls him to the edge. Carl’s hands tug at his jeans and Negan pulls his mouth away from his.

“What . . .?” He raises an eyebrow at him. He must think Carl’s insane, coming in here and helping him break things, and now trying to undress him. And maybe he is. He doesn't care at the moment. All he cares about is the way the curve of Negan’s collarbones are shadowed by the moonlight coming through the bay window, the way one of his hands is holding his face like he’s fragile, despite him trying to break everything in the room minutes ago.

Carl answers him wordlessly by wrapping his legs around him and pulling him closer.

“I really thought you were going to storm in here and tell me off.” Negan smiles and presses his forehead against his.

“You’re wrong,” Carl reminds him with a smug smile.

“Very. I don’t want to go back down there tonight,” Negan says, eyes searching his.

“That’s fine. You don’t have to.”

Negan relaxes and moves his head to the crook of his neck. Carl's surprised by how easy this is between them. He had expected Negan to snap at him, maybe even try to make him leave when he came in here, but here Negan is leaning on hin. Carl can tell he is really trying to navigate this relationship the best he can, despite the fact that he is one giant mood swing.

“I love you,” Carl tells him, and feels Negan's smile ok his neck.

“I love you,” he replies.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Carl asks, but Negan shakes his head, still buried in his neck. “Okay, do you want to watch a movie? Something funny, maybe?” he suggests.

After a long pause, Negan looks back toward the bed. “Did you bring your laptop?” When Carl nods, he continues. “Let’s watch The Vow again.”

Carl laughs. “You mean the movie that you supposedly despise?”

“Yes, well, despise is a little harsh. I just think it’s a sappy, mediocre love story,” he corrects.

“Then why do you want to watch it?”

“Because I want to watch you watch it,” he answers thoughtfully.

Remembering the way Negan watched him the entire time they watched it in his room, that night seems so long ago. Carl had no clue what was coming up between them. He would have never imagined they would come to this.

Carl's smile is all the answer he needs as Negan grabs his waist and carries him to the bed.

Within minutes, Negan is snuggled up next to Carl studying his face as Carl watches the movie. Halfway through he feels his eyes getting heavy.

“I’m getting sleepy,” Carl says with a yawn.

“They both die; you’re not missing much.”

Carl nudges him with his elbow. “You have issues.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re sleepy.” Negan closes his laptop and pulls him up to the top of the bed with him.

“And you’re uncharacteristically nice when I’m sleepy,” Carl says.

“No, I’m nice because I love you,” Negan whispers and Carl swoons. “Sleep, beautiful.”

Negan gives hin a small peck on Carl's forehead, and he's too tired to try for more.

  
~O~

The next morning, the light is bright, too bright. When Carl rolls over to bury his head in Negan’s shoulder, he sighs in his sleep and pulls Carl closer.

When Carl wakes up again, Negan is awake and staring at the ceiling. His eyes are hooded and his expression unreadable. Negan looks like someone reminded him of something that he didn't want to hear.

“You okay?” Carl asks, nuzzling further into him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he answers, but Carl can tell he’s lying.

  
What happened?

  
“Negan, if there is something wrong . . .” He begins.

“There isn’t, I’m fine.” Carl decides to let it go. They have gotten along all weekend; it’s a record for them. He doesn't want to ruin it. He lifts his head up and places a single kiss on Negan’s jaw and his arms wrap tighter around him.

“I have a few things to do today, so whenever you’re ready, can you drop me off at my house?” Negan asks. Carl’s stomach drops, hearing the distance in his voice.

“Sure,” Carl mumbles and moves out of his embrace. Negan tries to grab his wrist but Carl moves too quickly. Grabbing his bag, he heads to the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. They have been in their own little bubble all weekend, and he fears that without the protection of these walls, he won’t be the same.

He’s relieved when he doesn't run into Enid or Ron in the hallway, and even more relieved that Negan is fully dressed when Carl returns. He wants to get this over with. Negan has cleaned the glass off the floor and the keyboard is in the trash can, the lamp and monitor neatly piled nearby.

Downstairs, Carl says goodbye to Hershel and Charlotte, though Negan walks outside without saying a word to either of them. Carl assures them that Negan will still be at the wedding, despite the drama last night. He tells them about the computer and lamp, but they don’t seem to pay it much mind.

“Are you mad or something?” Negan asks after ten minutes of silence.

“No.” It’s not that Carl’s mad, he’s just nervous, he supposes. He can feel the shift between them and he wasn’t expecting anything to change from how they were all weekend.

“It seems like it.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“You need to tell me if you are.”

“You’re just being distant and now you’re having me drop you off at your house, and I thought everything was fine between us,” Carl says.

“You’re upset because I have things to do today?” When Negan says it like that, Carl realizes how ridiculous and obsessive he sounds. Is that why he is upset? Because he isn’t hanging out with him today?

“Maybe.” Carl laughs at his stupidity. “I just don’t want you to be distant from me.”

“I’m not doing it on purpose, at least. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.” Negan reaches over and puts his hand on Carl’s thigh. “Nothing is going to change, Carl.”

Negan’s words calm him, but there is still a sliver of uncertainty behind Carl’s smile.

“Do you want to come with me?” Negan finally asks.

“No, I’m okay. I have some studying to do anyway.”

“Okay. Car, you have to remember this is new to me. I’m not used to having to consider other people when I make plans.”

“I know.”

“I can come to your room when I’m finished, or we can go to dinner or something.”

Carl puts his hand on Negan’s cheek, then run it through his messy hair. “It’s fine, really, Negan. Just let me know when you’re finished and we can decide then.”

When they pull up to his house, Negan leans over and gives Carl a swift kiss before climbing out of the car.

“I’ll text you,” he says, and bounds up the steps to that damned house.

  
Carl feels uneasy with Negan’s departure like something is definitely wrong but he lets it go.

  
~O~

The emptiness that Carl feels after dropping Negan off is strange, and makes him feel a bit pathetic. After the short drive back to his room, it already feels as if he dropped him off hours ago. Noah isn’t in the room when he gets there, but he’s glad. He really does need to study and prepare for his first day at The Governor’s tomorrow: he has to decide what to wear, what to bring, what he’s going to say.

Taking out his planner, he plans his week by the hour, then moves on to his clothes. Day one at TG’s will be his new black pants and a red top and black boots. The outfit is very professional but still youthful. He wonders idly if Negan will like it.

To keep Carl’s mind off him, he completes all of his assignments that are due this week and then some. By the time he finishes, the sun has disappeared from the sky and he’s starving, but the cafeteria is already closed. Negan still hasn’t texted him, so he assumes Negan isn’t planning on coming over tonight.

Grabbing his phone, he heads out to find something to eat. He remembers seeing a Chinese restaurant near the little library, but by the time he finds the place it’s closed. He looks up the closest restaurant to him and finds a place called the Ice House. When he drives there, the Ice House is small and looks like it’s made out of aluminum, but he’s hungry and the idea of finding another place to eat makes his stomach rumble even more. Going inside, he realizes it’s more of a bar that serves food, and that it’s actually quite packed, although to his surprise he manages to find a small table in the back to sit at.

He ignores the glances of the people inside, who must be wondering why he’s here alone, but he always eat alone. He’s not one of those people who need someone to go with them everywhere. He goes shopping alone, eats out alone, and he has even been to the movies alone a few times when Lydia wasn’t able to come. He never really has minded being alone until now, if he’s honest with himself. He misses Negan more than he should, and it troubles him that Negan hasn’t even bothered to text him.

Carl orders, and while he’s waiting on his food, the waitress brings him over a beer.

“Oh, I didn’t order this,” he tells her but she sits it down in front of him anyway.

“He did.” She smiles and tilts her head toward the bar area. Carl immediately hopes that it’s Negan somehow and cranes his neck to look. But it’s not. Dwight gives him a small wave and a dazzling smile from across the room. Simon walks up and takes the empty bar stool next to him and shoots Carl a smile as well.

“Oh. Thanks,” Carl tells her. It seems that every place around this campus allows underage drinking, or maybe these guys only go to the places that do. She assures him that his food will be ready any minute and wanders off.

A few moments later, Dwight and Simon come over, pull the chairs out from Carl’s table, and takes a seat. He hopes Dwight isn’t angry with him for what happened on Friday.

“You’re the last person that I expected to see in here, especially on a Sunday,” Simon says.

“Yeah, it was an accident. I was going for Chinese but it was closed,” Carl tells them.

“Have you seen Negan?” Dwight asks with a smile before looking at Simon, who shares a mysterious look with him before turning back to Carl.

  
What was that about?

  
“No, not for a while. You?” Carl asks them. His nerves are clear in his voice.

“No, not for a few hours but he should be here soon,” Simon answers.

“Here?” Carl says nervously. His food arrives, but he’s no longer hungry. What if Sherry is with him? He won’t be able to take it, not after the weekend they just had together.

“Yeah, we come here a lot. I can call him and see when he’ll be here?” Dwight suggests but Carl quickly shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine. I’m going to go, actually.” He looks around for his waitress to ask for his check.

“You didn’t like the beer?” Dwight asks.

“No, well, I didn’t try it. Thanks for getting it for me, but I should go.”

“Are you guys fighting again?” he asks.

Simon begins to say something but Dwight shoots him a glare from across the table. What is going on? Dwight takes a sip of his beer and looks at Simon again.

“He said what?” Carl asks.

“Nothing, he just said you guys were on better terms now.” Dwight answers for Simon. The small bar feels even smaller now, and Carl is desperate to leave.

“Oh, there they are!” Simon says.

Carl’s eyes dart to the door to see Negan, Tara, Noah, Beth, and Sherry—Carl knew it! He knows they are friends, and he doesn't want to come off as controlling or crazy, but he can’t stand Negan being around that girl.

When Negan eyes meet Carl’s, he looks surprised and almost afraid, his eyes holding a lot of panic. Negan looks nervously to his group of friends and then to Carl, like he’s trying to plan an escape route. What the hell? Not this again. The waitress walks by while they make their way to their table.

“Could I just get my food to go, and get the check, please?” Carl asks her. She looks surprised, and then looks around at everybody who just showed up and nods, then goes back to the kitchen.

“Why are you going?” Noah asks. The five of them sit at the table next to Carl, Dwight and Simon. Carl refuses to allow himself to look over at Negan. He hates the way Negan is so different around his friends—why can’t he just be the same Negan that Carl had all weekend?

“I, well, I have to study,” Carl lies.

Beth smiles hopefully. “You should stay—you study too much!”

Any hope that Negan would scoop Carl into his arms and tell him he has missed him is gone. The waitress shows up with Carl’s food, and he hands her a twenty, then stands up to leave.

“Well, you guys have a good night,” He tells them. He looks at Negan and then back at the floor.

“Wait,” Negan says. Carl turns around and looks at him. Please don’t let him make a rude remark or kiss Sherry again.

“Aren’t you going to give me a good-night kiss?” He smiles.

Carl looks around at his friends and they all look a little surprised but mostly confused. “W-what?” Carl stammers. He straightens his shoulders and looks at him again.

“You’re not going to kiss me before you go?” Negan stands up and walks toward him. Carl wanted this, but now he’s uncomfortable with everyone’s eyes on them.

“I...” Carl doesn't know what to say.

“Why would he?” Sherry laughs. God, Carl can’t stand her.

“They are together, obviously,” Noah tells her, sounding annoyed.

“What?” Sherry says.

“Keep your mouth shut, Sherry,” Dwight says and Carl wants to thank him, but there is something behind his voice that makes Carl wonder about his choice of words. This is beyond uncomfortable.

“Bye, guys,” Carl says again and walks toward the door.

Negan follows him and grabs Carl’s wrist to stop him. “Why are you leaving? And why are you even in this place to begin with?”

“Well, I was hungry and came here to eat. And now I’m leaving because you were ignoring me and I—”

“I wasn’t ignoring you, I just didn’t know what to say or do. I wasn’t expecting to see you here. It caught me off guard,” he explains.

“Yeah, I’m sure it did. You haven’t texted me all day and now you’re here with Sherry?” Carl’s voice comes out much whinier than he wanted.

“And Tara, Beth, and Noah. Not just Sherry,” he points out.

“I know but you guys have a history together.” Carl surely broke the record for the quickest jealous fit.

“It’s just that, babe: history. It wasn’t like this, not like us,” Negan says.

Carl sighs. “I know, I just can’t help it.”

“I know. How do you think I felt when I walked in there and saw you sitting with Dwight?”

“That’s not the same thing. You and Sherry have slept together.” Just saying it stings.

“Car . . .”

“I know, it’s crazy, but I can’t help it.” Carl looks away.

“It’s not crazy. I understand. I just don’t know what to do about it. Sherry is in our group and she probably always will be.”

Carl doesn't know what he expected him to say but the equivalent of “too bad” isn’t what he wanted to hear. “Okay.” He should be happy that Negan basically told everyone they’re dating now, but the whole thing felt so off.

“I’m going to go,” Carl tells him.

“Then I’m coming with you.”

“You sure you want to leave your friends?” He snaps.

Negan rolls his eyes and follows him to his car. Carl tries to hide his smile as they get in the car. At least he knows Negan would rather be with him than Sherry.

“So how long were you there before I arrived?” Negan asks as Carl pulls out of the parking lot.

“About twenty minutes.”

“Oh. You didn’t meet Dwight there, did you?”

“No. It was the last place open to eat I could find. I had no idea he was there—or that you would show up. You know, because you never texted me.”

“Oh,” he says and pauses for a beat. But then Negan looks over at him again. “So what did you guys talk about?”

“Nothing; he was only at the table for a few minutes before you got there. Why?”

“I’m just wondering.” His fingers drum on his knee. “I missed you today.”

“I missed you, too,” Carl says as they pull onto campus. “I got a lot of homework done and I prepared everything for my first day at TG’s.”

“Do you want me to drive you tomorrow?”

“No, that’s why I got my own car, remember?” Carl laughs.

“Still, I could drive you,” Negan offers as they get to Carl’s dorm and head inside.

“No, it’s fine. I will drive myself. Thank you, though.”

Just as Carl is about to ask him what he did all day—why he hadn’t texted him if he missed him so much—his breath gets locked in his throat and panic takes over.

His father is standing in front of his door with his arms crossed and a sad scowl on his face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I know this story has a lot of back and forth with Cegan but please remember things get WAY WORST (We're just getting started) but it gets better! They won't be like this forever.


	12. TWELVE

Negan’s eyes follow Carl’s and widens as he sees Rick. He reaches for Carl’s hand, but Carl pulls away and steps out in front of him. “Hi, Dad—”

“Carl, what the hell is going on?” Rick yells as they approach.

Carl wants to shrink and disappear.

“What?” He doesn't know what Rick knows yet, so he stays quiet.

“Why didn't you tell me you and Lydia broke up? I had found out through her mother at my office. What's going on?” Rick asks loudly.

“It’s not that big a deal, Dad. We broke up,” Carl says and Rick shakes his head. Negan stays behind him, but Carl feels his hand go to the small of his back.

“Not that big a deal? You begged me to accept your relationship with her not long ago! She has a promising future and comes from a great family!” Rick pauses to catch his breath a moment, but Carl doesn't interrupt, knowing there’s more to come. Rick straightens up and says as calmly as he can, “Luckily, I have just spoken to her and she has agreed to take you back, despite your promiscuous behavior.”

Anger flares inside Carl. “How dare I? If I don’t want to date her, I don’t have to. What does it matter what type of family she comes from? You still didn't like her or long ago! If I wasn’t happy with her, that is what should matter. How dare you talk to her about this—I’m an adult!”

Carl pushes past him to open the door. Negan follows close behind him and his father storms in after.

“That's fine. But why are you with him, Carl? Look at him! Is this your way of rebelling against me? Have I done something to make you hate me?”

Negan is standing by Carl’s dresser with his jaw clenched and hands shoved deep in his pockets. If only he knew that Negan’s father is the chancellor at GSU and has even more money than Lydia’s family. But Carl won’t tell him that, because that has nothing to do with it.

“Dad, just stop, please stop.” Carl’s tears are fighting to break free, but he refuses to let his dad get the best of him. He hates that he's an angry  
cry, it makes him look and feel weak.

“I'm not going to stop if this involves your future! You have to think of the future, not just how you’re feeling now. I know he seems fun and dangerous, but there is no future here!” Rick gestures to Negan.

  
Carl takes a step towards him and says in a low voice warningly, “Don't you dare talk about him like that.”

Rick saddens a little at that and pinches his nose. “What is this about? You didn't even tell me that… you were into guys.”

Carl begins to feel guilty, but he still has to fight and defend himself. “I’m not jeopardizing my future. My future isn’t even in question here, I have a four-point-oh, and I have a great internship starting tomorrow. He makes me happy, Dad, and if you can’t accept that, then you should go.”

“What?” Rick says, but in truth Carl is just as surprised by what he just said as he is. “Don't make this mistake, Carl. You're my only child. I want to protect you.”

The room starts spinning. Carl was not prepared to go to war with his father, not today at least. He knew it would be a matter of time before he found out, but he wasn’t even on Carl’s radar for today.

“I knew since the moment I saw him, he would have you hooked. I hope you're being safe with him because I’ve heard things about-”

Negan steps between them. “You’re taking this too far,” Negan warns him with dark eyes. Carl thinks Negan may be the only person who could actually give his father a run for his money.

“You stay out of this!” Rick tenses, crossing his arms once again. “If you continue to see him… I will no longer support you with college. Michonne won't either.” Rick says calmly.

Carl’s astounded that his father would go there. “You’re threatening my education because you don’t approve of who I am in love with?”

“In love with?” Rick shakes his head. “Weren't you in love with Lydia just yesterday? You clearly have no idea what love is.” He laughs, making a sound that is more like a sickening cackle. “And you think he loves you?”

“I do love him,” Negan interrupts.

“Sure you do!” Rick chuckles humorlessly, looking disgusted by the thought.

  
“Dad.”

“Carl, I’m warning you: If you don’t stop seeing him, there will be consequences. I’m leaving now, but I hope to hear from you when you make the right choice,” Rick storms out of the room, and Carl goes into the doorway to watch him as he stomps away, Rick’s silence and angry echoing down the hall.

“I’m so sorry.” Carl turns to Negan.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He takes Carl’s face in his hands. “I’m proud of the way you stood up for yourself.” He kisses Carl’s nose. Carl looks around the room and wonders just how everything came to this. He leans into Negan’s chest and Negan reaches around him, rubbing the tense muscles on his neck.

“I can’t believe him, I can’t believe he would act like that and threaten not to help pay for my college. He doesn’t pay for all of it—I have a partial scholarship and some student loans. He only pays twenty percent; the biggest thing is the dorms. But what if he really stops paying for them? I will have to find a job on top of the internship,” Carl sobs. His hand moves to the back of Carl’s head and gently guides his head down to cry on his chest.

“Baby, it’s okay, we'll figure it out. You can move in with me,” Negan says. Carl laughs and wipes his eyes, but he goes on, “Really, you could. Or we could get an apartment off campus. I have enough money.”

Carl looks up at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“We can’t move in together.” Carl laughs again and sniffles.

“Why not?”

“Because we have only known each other for a few months, and most of that time was spent fighting,” Carl reminds him.

“So, we have done a pretty good job getting along this weekend.” He smiles and they both burst into laughter.

“You’re insane. I’m not moving in with you,” Carl tells him and Negan hugs him again.

“Just think about it—I want to move out of the frat house anyway. I don’t really fit in there, in case you didn’t notice,” he says and laughs. It’s true, his small group of friends are the only ones who don’t wear polo shirts and khakis every day. “I only joined to piss Hershel off, but it didn’t work as well as I had hoped.”

“You could just get an apartment on your own if you dislike the house,” Carl says. There is no way he is moving in with Negan this soon.

“Yeah, but that wouldn’t be as fun.” Negan grins and wiggles his brows at him.

“We could still have fun,” Carl teases.

Negan’s wicked smile grows and he brings both hands down to Carl’s bottom and squeezes.

“Negan!” Carl scolds him playfully.

The door opens and Carl’s breathing stops. Flashbacks of his father’s anger fill his vision, and he’s afraid Rick’s come back for round two.

So he’s relieved when it’s Noah and Beth who walk into the room.

“Guess I missed something grand. Your father just flipped Simon off in the parking lot,” Beth says, and Carl can’t help but laugh.

~O~

Negan ends up staying the night in Carl’s room after Noah goes to Beth’s apartment with her. The rest of the night they spend talking and kissing before Negan finally falls asleep with his head on Carl’s lap. He dreams of a time and place where they could actually live together. He would love to wake up every morning to find Negan next to him, but it’s not realistic. He’s too young, and that’s moving too fast.

Monday morning, his alarm goes off ten minutes late, throwing his whole morning off. After he showers and he quickly starts to get ready, while waking Negan up.

“What time is it?” he groans.

“It’s six thirty.”

“Six thirty? You don’t have to be there until nine; come back to bed.”

“No, I still have to do get ready and get coffee. I have to leave here by seven thirty; the drive is forty-five minutes.”

“You’d be there forty-five minutes early; you should leave at eight.” Negan closes his eyes and rolls back over.

Carl ignores him and turns on Beth’s blow dryer; Negan takes a pillow and covers his head with it. After blow drying his hair, makes sure he didn't miss anything on his list.

“Are you going to just go to class from here?” Carl asks Negan as he gets dressed.

“Yeah, probably.” He smiles and crawls out of bed. “Can I use your toothbrush?”

“I guess . . . I’ll just buy a new one on my way back.” No one has ever asked to use Carl’s toothbrush before. He mentally pictured himself putting it in his mouth after Negan’s uses it, but nothing good comes of that.

“I still say you shouldn’t leave until eight; think of the things we could do in thirty minutes,” Negan says, and Carl looks over at him and his tempting dimples, and notice the way his eyes travel up and down his body. Carl's own eyes travel to the bulge in his boxers and his body immediately heats. Carl's fingers stop on the middle button of his shirt as Negan lazily crosses the small room to stand behind him. 

“I have to. I still have to get some coffee,” Carl saysfrantically. “What if there is traffic? An accident? I could blow a tire or need gas. I could get lost, or not be able to find somewhere to park. What if I have to park in the very back and then I have to walk a long way and I will be out of breath, so I will need a few minutes to—”

“You need to calm down, baby. You’re a nervous wreck.” Negan sends a little breath across Carl's ear. Carl looks at him in the mirror. Negan looks so perfect when he wakes up, his sleepiness making him look softer.

“I can’t help it; this internship means so much to me. I can’t take the chance of messing it up.” His mind is racing. He will be fine after today, after he knows what to expect and can plan his week accordingly.

“You don’t want to show up there nervous like this; they will eat you alive.” Negan places a string of small kisses down Carl's neck.

“I will be fine.” He hopes. Goose bumps cover his skin from Negan's warm breath against his neck.

“Let me relax you first.” Negan's voice is low and seductive, laced with sleep.

“I . . .”

He trails his fingers over Carl's collarbone and down to his chest. Their eyes meet in the mirror and Carl sighs in defeat. “Five minutes?” He asks and begs at the same time.

“That’s all I need.”

~O~

“You are something else,” Carl sighs after after a handjob and kisses later.

 

“I don’t claim to be otherwise,” Negan says. “Last chance for me to drive you. Well, since my car isn’t here, I could drive you in your car?”

“No; thank you, though.”

“Good luck; you’ll do great.”

He kisses Carl again and Carl thanks him and gather his things, leaving Negan in hus room. This morning has turned out to be great despite his alarm being ten minutes off. The drive is quick and clear, so when he pulls into the parking lot it’s only eight thirty. He decides to call Negan to pass the time.

“You okay?” he says on the other end.

“Yeah, I’m already here,” Carl tells him. He can picture his self-satisfied expression.

“Told you. You could have stayed for ten more minutes and given me a blow job.”

Carl scoffs with a smile. “Always such a pervert, even this early in the morning.”

“Yep, I am nothing but consistent.”

“I won’t argue with that.” They banter back and forth about his lack of virtue until it’s time for him to go inside. Carl makes his way to the top floor, where Philip Blake’s office is located, and give the woman in the front his name.

She gives someone a call and a few moments later gives him a huge smile. “Mr. Blake would like to come out himself; he will see you in a second.”

The door to the office he was interviewed in opens, and Mr. Blake himself comes out. “Mr. Grimes!” he greets Carl. Blake is dressed in such a nice suit that Carl is a little intimidated, but thankful that he dressed professionally. He is holding a thick folder under his arm.

“Hello, Mr. Blake.” Carl smiles and reaches out to shake his hand.

“Go ahead and call me Phillip. I will show you to your office.”

“Office?” Carl blurts out.

“Yes, you will need your own space. It’s not much, but it’ll be yours. Let’s go over your paperwork there.” He smiles and then walks off so quickly that Carl follows behind nervously. He makes a left turn into a hallway full of small offices.

“Here we are,” Mr. Blake announces. There is a black tag with Carl’s name in bold white letters next to the door.

Carl must be dreaming. The office is as big as his dorm room. Mr. Blake and him have different ideas of “not much.” Inside, there is a medium-sized cherry desk, two filing cabinets, two chairs, a bookshelf, a computer—and a window! Philip takes a seat in front of the desk, so Carl goes and sits behind it. It’s going to take some getting used to the idea that this is actually my office.

“So, Mr. Grimes, let’s go over what your duties will include,” he says. “You will be expected to go over at least three graphic designs each week; if they are excellent and fit in with what we publish here, then you will send them to me. If they aren’t worth me looking at, toss them.”

Carl’s mouth falls open. This internship is literally a dream come true. He will be paid and receive college credit to draw.

“You will start out at two hundred a week, and if you do well after ninety days, you will receive a raise.”

Two hundred a week! That should be enough for him to get his own apartment, albeit a tiny one.

“Thank you so much; this is all so much more than I expected,” Carl tells him. He can’t wait to call Negan and tell him about all of this.

“It’s my pleasure. I have it on good authority that you are a very hard worker. Maybe you can even tell Negan how great it is, so he’ll come back and work for me again,” he says jokingly.

“What?”

“Negan, he used to work for us before The Sanctuary snatched him up. He started as an intern here last year, did great work, and I quickly hired him. But they offered him more money—and let him work from home. Said he didn’t like the office setting, so he left us. Go figure.” He smiles and adjusts his watch.

Carl laughs nervously. “I’ll remind him how great this place is.” He had no idea Negan had a job. He has never mentioned it to him.

Mr. Blake slides the folder across the desk to him. “Let’s get this paperwork out of the way.”

After thirty minutes of “sign here” and “initial here,” they are finally finished and Mr. Blake leaves him to “familiarize” himself with the computer and office.

But as soon as he walks out and closes the door behind him, all Carl can think to do is squeal and spin myself around in his chair, at his desk, in his new office!

~O~

When Carl gets back to his car after the best first day possible, he calls Negan, but he doesn’t answer. He wants to tell him about how great his morning has been and ask him why Negan didn’t tell him that he has a job or worked at TG’s.

By the time he gets back to campus it’s only one, since they dismissed him early, being busy with some high-level meetings or something. He basically has the whole day to do nothing, so he ends up going to the mall and walking around. After wandering in and out of almost every store there, he goes into J. Crew, figuring he could use a few more outfits for his internship.

The memory of Negan and him in the mirror this morning flashes in his mind, and he realizes he could also use some new underwear and shorts. His underwear are so plain and he has had them a while. Negan doesn’t seem to mind, but Carl would love to see his face if he took his pants off and had something tighter on.

He picks through the somethings and finds a few he likes. A saleswoman with curly hair and way too much red lipstick walks over to try to help him.

“Oh yeah, that’s nice, but what do you think about this one?” she says and holds up something that resembles a hot pink bundle of strings on a hanger.

“Um. Not really my style,” Carl tells her and looks at the ground.

“I see you prefer the full underwear?” she asks. Why must they actually discuss his underwear choices? This could not be more humiliating.

“You should try the boy short style; it’s sexy without being too sexy,” she says and holds up the same blue pair he’s holding, only the underwear are made differently. They look more like shorts. He never cared too much about his underwear because no one has seen them; who knew this would be so humiliating and complicated.

“Okay.” Carl gives in and she pulls a few more off the rack: a white, a black, and a red pair. The red is a little shocking to him, but he has to admit it’s intriguing. Even the black and white ones look more fitting than his usual choices because they are made of spandex.

Her smile is a wide and scary chasm. “Just try them; they are all the exact same style.” Carl nods politely and takes them from her, hoping that if he walks away she won’t follow him. Relieved when she doesn’t, he finds a few suits as well and a pair of comfortable dress shoes. He has to ask the cashier to repeat his total three times before he finally pays. Fancy underwear is much more expensive than he thought. Negan had better like it.

When Carl gets back to his room, Noah isn’t there and he hasn't heard from Negan, so he decides to take a nap. His new clothes are put away and he shuts off the light.

He wakes up to an unfamiliar ringtone. He rolls over and open his eyes. Sure enough, Negan is sitting on the chair with his feet up on Noah’s dresser.

“Have a nice nap?” he asks with a smile.

“Yeah, actually. How did you get in here?” Carl rubs his eyes.

“Noah.”

“Oh. How long have you been here?”

“About thirty minutes. How was your day at TG? I didn’t think you would be back already; it’s only six. But here you are passed out, snoring away, so it must have felt like a long one.” He laughs.

Carl props himself up on his elbow and looks at him. “It was great. I got my own office, with my name on the wall outside it—I can’t believe it! It’s wonderful. I will be making a lot more money than I thought, and I get to read manuscripts; how perfect is that? I’m just afraid that I will mess it up somehow because it’s so perfect. You know?” Carl rambles.

“Whoa, Blake must like you.” He raises a brow. “But you’ll do fine, don’t worry.”

“He said you worked there,” Carl tells him, testing his reaction.

“Of course he did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Or that you have a job now? When do you even have time to work?”

“You always have so many questions.” Negan runs his hands through his hair. “But I will answer them,” he adds. “I didn’t tell you because, well, I don’t know why, actually. And I make time to work. Whenever I’m not with you, I find the time.”

Carl sits cross-legged and faces him. “Mr. Blake really likes you—he said he wants you to work for him again.”

“I’m sure he does, but no, thanks. I make more than I did there and have less work,” Negan brags and Carl rolls his eyes.

“Tell me about your job. What exactly do you do?”

He shrugs. “Create designs, edit them. Same thing you do, but more involved.”

“Oh. Do you like it?”

“Yes, Carl. I do.” His tone is a little harsh.

“That’s good. Do you want to work for a designing company when you graduate?”

“I don’t know what I want to do.” Negan rolls his eyes.

“Did I say something?” Carl asks.

“No, you just ask too many questions all the time.”

“What?” Is he being sarcastic or serious?

“You don’t need to know every detail about my life,” he snaps.

“I’m just making conversation, having a casual discussion about your job,” Carl says. “Those are just normal things people do—sorry for taking an interest in your everyday life.”

Negan doesn’t say anything. What the hell is his problem? Carl had an amazing day and the last thing he wants to do is fight with him. He directs his attention to the ceiling and stays quiet as well. Eventually he learns there are ninety-five panels up there, and forty screws holding them up.

“I need to take a shower,” Carl finally says.

“So go, then,” Negan huffs.

Carl roll his eyes and grabs his bag. “You know, I thought we were past this, the whole you-being-an-asshole-for-no-reason thing?” He says and walk out of the room.

He takes his time in the shower, trying to relax under the shower head. He’s beyond nervous for his job tomorrow, but his excitement tops everything. He really wishes Hardin wasn’t being so rude. All Carl did was ask Negan about a job that he didn’t tell him about. He should be able to talk to him about that, but there’s just so much about him that he doesn't know, and it makes him really uncomfortable.

He tries to figure out how to explain that to him, but when he gets back to his room, Negan’s gone.

~O~

Carl is beyond annoyed at Negan’s unnecessary attitude, but he tries to forget it and brush the tangles out of his wet hair and puts on the new underwear he bought today. He slips a T-shirt over his head and looks over his stuff for tomorrow. All Carl can think about is where he went; he knows he’s obsessive and a little crazy, but he can’t help worrying that he’s with Sherry.

While deciding whether or not to call Negan, he receives a text message from Noah saying that he won’t be back tonight. He might as well move in with Beth and Simon; he stays there five nights a week and absolutely adores Beth. He probably told her about his job on their second date and she probably wouldn’t snap at him and leave for no reason.

“Lucky Noah,” He says to himself and grabs the remote for his television. His fingers press the buttons absentmindedly and he settles on a rerun of The Office that he has seen at least one hundred times. He can’t remember the last time he watched television, but it’s nice to just lie in bed and watch a simple comedy, to escape from the most recent pointless fight with Negan.

After a few episodes of various shows, he feels his eyes getting heavy. In his sleepy state his anger momentarily disappears and he texts Negan good night, but he doesn’t reply before sleep overtakes him.

“Shit.” A loud thud wakes him up. Carl jolts upright and turns on the lamp to find a stumbling Negan trying to navigate the dark room.

“What are you doing?” Carl asks him.

When Negan looks up at him his eyes are red and glossy. He is drunk. Great.

“I came here to see you,” he says and plops down in the chair.

“Why?” Carl sighs. He wants him here, but not drunk and at two in the morning.

“Because I missed you.”

“Then why did you leave?”

“Because you were annoying me.”

Ouch. “Okay, I’m going back to sleep; you’re drunk and you’re obviously going to be mean again.”

“I’m not being mean, Carl. And I am drunk, but so fucking what?”

“I don’t care that you’re drunk, but it’s a school night and I need my sleep.” Carl would stay up all night with him if he knew Negan wouldn’t say hurtful things to him the entire time.

“It’s a school night,” Negan mocks him. “Could you be more of a square?” He laughs like he’s just said the funniest thing ever.

“You should just go,” Carl says and lies back down, turning to face the wall. He doesn't like this Negan. He wants his semisweet Negan back. Not this drunk jerk.

“Aww, baby, don’t be mad at me,” he says, but Carl ignores him. “Do you really want me to go? You know what happens when I sleep without you,” he says, just above a whisper.

Carl’s heart sinks. He does know what happens, but it’s not fair for him to use that against him when he’s drunk and taunting him.

“Fine. You can stay, but I’m going back to sleep.”

“Why? You don’t want to hang out with me?”

“You’re drunk and being mean.” Carl finally turns back around to face him.

“I’m not being mean,” Negan says, his expression neutral. “All I said was you were being annoying.”

“That’s sort of mean to say to someone. Especially when all I did was ask you about your job.”

“Oh God, not this again. Come on, Carl, just drop it. I don’t want to talk about that right now.” His voice is whiny and he slurs his words.

“Why did you drink tonight?” Carl doesn't mind if he drinks; he’s not Negan’s mother, and Negan’s an adult. The thing that bothers him is that every time Negan drinks there is a reason behind it. He doesn’t just drink for fun.

Negan looks away from him and towards the door as if planning an escape. “I don’t fucking know. I just felt like having a drink, well, drinks. Can you please stop being mad at me? I love you,” he says and brings his eyes to meet his.

His simple words dissolve most of Carl’s anger and he finds himself wanting his arms around him.

“I’m not mad at you, I just don’t want to backtrack in our relationship. I don’t like when you turn on me for no reason, then just leave. If you’re mad about something, I want you to talk to me about it.”

“You just don’t like to not have control over everything,” he says and wobbles a little.

“What?”

“You’re a control freak.” He shrugs as if it’s a known fact.

“No, I’m not. I just like things a certain way.”

“Yeah, your way.”

“So I guess we aren’t done fighting, then. Anything else you want to throw in there while you’re are it?” Carl snaps.

“Nope, just that you’re a control freak and I really want you to move in with me.”

What? His moods give him whiplash.

“You should move in with me—I found an apartment today. I haven’t signed anything yet, but it’s a nice place.”

“When?” It’s hard to keep up with the five personalities of Negan Travis.

“After I left here.”

“Before you got drunk?” Carl asks.

Negan rolls his eyes. The light from the lamp hits the beautiful lips, and Carl fights to ignore how attractive that is.

“Yes, before I got drunk. So what do you say? Are you going to move in with me?”

“I know you’re new at this dating thing, but people don’t usually insult their boyfriend and ask them to move in with them in the same sentence,” Carl informs him, chewing his bottom lip to suppress his smile.

“Well, sometimes the said boyfriend needs to lighten up.” He grins. Even drunk, he’s charming as hell.

“Well, then said boyfriend needs to stop being a jerk,” Carl says to retaliate.

He laughs and moves from the chair over to his bed. “I’m trying not to be a jerk, I really am. Sometimes I can’t help it.” He sits on the edge of the bed. “I’m really, really good at it!”

“I know,” Carl sighs. Regardless of this episode tonight, he knows Negan really has been trying to be nicer. He doesn't want to make excuses for him, but he has done much better than he expected.

“So you will move in with me?” He smiles hopefully.

“Jesus, let’s take this one step at a time. I’ll stop being mad at you for now,” Carl tells him and sits up. “Now come to bed with me,” he instructs. Negan raises an eyebrow as if to say, “See, control freak,” but stands up to pull his jeans off anyway. When he removes his shirt he puts it on the bed before him, and Carl loves that he wants him to wear his shirts as much as he wants to.

Carl pulls his shirt off to slip his over his head when Negan stops him.

“Fuck,” he blurts out and Carl looks up. “What are you wearing?” His eyes are dark and wide.

“I got some new underwear today.” Carl flushes and looks away.

“I see that. You look, fucking hell,” he stammers.

“You already said that.” Carl laughs. The light in Negan’s eyes is blazing for him—and it makes his skin tingle.

“You look incredible.” He gulps. “You always do, but this is just . . .”

With a dry mouth Carl looks down to where Negan’s boxers strain against his growing bulge. The energy between them has changed for the fifth time tonight.

“I was going to show you earlier, but you were too busy being a jerk.”

“Mmm,” Negan mumbles, clearly not paying attention to what Carl is actually saying. He places his knee on the bed and looks Carl’s body up and down again before climbing on top of him.

His lips taste like whiskey and mint, and the combination is heavenly. Their kisses are soft and teasing, coming together and drifting apart, his tongue playfully gliding over Carl’s. His hand wraps into Carl’s hair and Carl can feel his erection press against his stomach as he brings his body closer to his. He lets go of his hair to hold himself up on his elbow and use his other hand to touch him.

“What do you want to do, Car?” His voice is shaky and uncontrolled.

“I already told you before,” Carl says as Negan traces Carl’s briefs with his finger. Carl wishes he wouldn’t have drunk tonight, but maybe his half-drunken state will make him seem less awkward.

Carl cries out as Negan’s fingers reach into his boxers and enters. Carl wraps one of his arms around him, trying to grasp onto something, anything. He reaches between them with his other hand to palm Negan. Negan groans and Carl squeezes gently and stroke him lightly.

“You’re sure?” Negan pants. Carl can see the uncertainty in his clear hazel eyes.

“Yes, I’m sure. Stop overthinking it.” Boy, have the tables turned, that Carl is the one saying this to him.

“I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Carl presses his lips against Negan’s. “I love you, Negan,” he says into his mouth.

His fingers continue pumping in and out slowly, stretching him and his mouth moves to Carl’s neck. He sucks at his skin harshly, then slides his tongue over the ache to soothe it. He repeats this over and over, and Carl’s entire body is on fire.

“Negan . . . I am . . .” He tries to say and Negan quickly pulls his hand from him, kissing him as Carl whimpers. Negan scoots back and hooks his fingers around Carl’s briefs, pulling them down his legs. He places both of his hands on Carl’s thighs and squeezes gently before kissing down his stomach and blowing on Carl’s erection.

Carl’s body involuntarily lifts off the bed and his tongue moves up and down while Negan wraps his arms around Carl’s thighs, keeping them apart. Within seconds my legs begin to shake and I grip the sheets and he continues lapping his tongue around me.

“Tell me how good it feels,” Negan states.

Strangled sounds escape Carl's lips as he tries to say something, anything. Negan continues to say dirty things, licking him between them, forming a delicious pattern as Carl's body shakes and his toes curl. When he regains consciousness Negan brings his mouth back up to Carl's, a strange taste on his lips. Carl's chest is heaving and his breath is staggered.

“Are you . . .” he begins.

“Shh, yes, I’m sure,” Carl tells him and kisses him, hard. His hands claw at Negan’s back, then pulls Negan boxers below his hips. He sighs as the restriction disappears, and they both moan as their skin touches again.

“Carl, I . . .”

“Shh . . .” Carl tells him again. He wants this more than anything and he doesn't want him to keep talking.

“But, Carl… I need to tell you something before we do this. It will be too late after this. I don't want you to hate me -”

“Shh. Negan, please stop talking,” Carl begs and kisses him again. Carl grabs Negan’s erection and slide his hand up and down its length. Negan’s eyes close and he sucks in a sharp breath. Instinct takes over Carl’s actions and he brushes his thumb over the tip of him, wiping away the dampness there and feeling him pulse in his hand.

“I’m going to come if you do that again,” he gasps. Suddenly he pulls up and jumps off the bed. Before Carl can ask where he is going, he pulls out a small packet from his jeans.

Oh. This is really happening.

Carl knows he should be afraid or nervous, but all he feels is his love for Negan, and his for him.

The anticipation of what is coming next fills Carl with wonder, and time seems to slow down while he waits for Negan to return to the bed. He had always thought his first time would be with Lydia, later in life. They would be in a huge bed in some fancy bungalow on a tropical island. But here he is in his small dorm room, on his small bed with Negan, and he would not change a single thing about it.

  
Carl has only ever seen condoms in sex ed class, where they seemed so intimidating. But right here, right now, he just wants to yank it out of Negan’s hand and put it on him as fast as he can. He’s thankful that Negan can’t hear his indecent thoughts, even if Negan’s words are far dirtier than any thought Carl has ever had.

“Are . . .” His voice is low.

“If you ask if I’m sure, I will kill you.”

Negan smiles and laughs, waving the condom between his thumb and forefinger. “I was going to say, are you going to help me put this on, or should I do it?”

Carl bites his lip. “Oh. I want to but you have to show me how,” he says, realizing that learning about condoms in sex ed really didn’t prepare him for how this moment feels, and he doesn't want to mess this up.

“Okay.” He sits on the bed and Carl sits up cross-legged. Stretching out to him, Negan kisses him swiftly on his forehead. When he tears the packet open, Carl holds his hand out, but he just chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ll show you, this way.” Taking Carl’s hand, Negan pulls out the little disk and uses their entwined hands to place the condom above him. It feels slippery to the touch. “Now it goes down,” he says, his cheeks flushed. As both of their hands slide the condom over his hard skin, his eyes narrow and he grows a little larger.

“That wasn’t so bad for a virgin and a drunk,” Carl jokes.

Negan raises an eyebrow at him and smiles. Carl is glad they are being playful and not so intense; it makes him less nervous for what is about to happen.

“I’m not drunk, baby. I had a few drinks, but arguing with you sobered me up, as usual.” He flashes his dimples and runs his thumb across his bottom lip.

Carl’s relieved by his answer. It’s not like he wants Negan passing out halfway through or puking on him. Carl laughs a little at his thoughts and looks at Negan again. Negan’s eyes are clear, not glazed like they were an hour ago.

“Now what?” Carl says before he can stop himself.

Negan laughs, taking Carl’s hand and wrapping it around his length. “Eager?” Negan teases and Carl nods. “Me too,” he admits, and Carl loves the feel of Negan’s cock in his hand. Shifting his body, Negan hovers over him. With one knee he parts Carl’s legs, spreading them wide, and Carl feels Negan’s fingers rub against him.

Carl prays that Negan is gentle with him.

“My fingers stretched you out a lot, so that will make it easier.” Negan inhales, he looks sad for a second but then it disappears. Their lips meet and Negan kisses him slowly, his tongue teasing his. Negan’s lips seem to be molded against Carl’s, made just for each other. Pulling back slightly, Negan kisses the corners of his mouth, followed by his nose, and then his lips again. Carl’s hands go to his back in a desperate attempt to pull him closer to him.

“Slow, baby, we need to go slow,” Negan whispers against Carl’s earlobe. “It’s going to hurt at first, so just tell me if you want me to stop. I mean it, okay?” he says gently and looks straight into Carl’s eyes, waiting for his answer.

“Okay.” Carl gulps. He also thought he would lose to virginity to a girl, but heck, there's a first time for everything.

Negan kisses him again. Carl feels the silky condom brush against him, causing him to shudder. Seconds later Negan presses into him.

It’s such a foreign feeling and Carl’s eyes screw shut and he hears himself gasp.

“You okay?”

Carl nods and Negan moves farther into him. Carl winces at the stretching feeling deep inside. He was already soaked in pre cum before so it made it easier.

“Fuck,” Negan groans. His body is still, unmoving, but it’s still incredibly uncomfortable for Carl.

“Can I move?” Negan’s voice is so strained and raspy after a few moments.

“Yeah,” Carl says. The pain continues, but Negan kisses him all over, his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his neck, and the tears forming at the corner of Carl’s eyes. He starts to move along with Negan’s movements, not sure what to do, but Carl continues to roll his hips, creating the necessary friction.

“Oh God,” Negan moans and rolls his head back. “I love you, I love you so fucking much, Carl. You have no idea,” Negan breathes against Carl’s cheek.

Carl wants to say he loves him back, but can't. He’s too caught up in the act.

“Do you . . . fuck . . . do you want me to stop?” Negan stutters. Carl can hear the pleasure and worry battling in his voice.

Carl shakes his head and watches him in amazement when Negan’s eyes close tightly again. His jaw is clenched in concentration; his hard muscles contract and pull beneath his toned skin.

Negan brushes Carl’s cheekbone with his fingers and kisses him again before burying his head in the crook of Carl’s neck. His breath is staggering, hot and wild against Carl’s skin. Bringing his face to Carl’s, he opens his eyes.

Carl has never felt this way, this deep-seated connection to Negan that takes him somewhere he never knew existed. The emotion in his brilliant hazel eyes as he looks into Carl’s deep blue eyes, makes Carl want to cry.

Carl loves him and he knows without a doubt Negan loves him. Even if they don’t last forever, if they end up never speaking again, Carl will always know that in this moment Negan was everything to him.

Carl can tell that it’s taking everything in Negan to control himself, to keep this slow pace for him, and Carl loves him all the more for it. Time slows and stops, speeds and stops again as he moves in and out of him. Carl kisses Negan’s neck and the spot under his ear that Carl knows drives Negan crazy.  
More than he already is, this is.

Negan shivers and moans Carl’s name. “You’re doing so good, baby. I love you so much.”

“I love you, Negan,” Carl manages to say.

Negan moans again and brings his swollen lips to his. “Oh, baby, I’m going to come. Okay?” he says through clenched teeth.

Carl nods and kisses his neck again, sucking gently on his skin. Negan’s eyes never leave his as they both come together; promises of forever and unconditional love are made as Negan tenses and gently falls onto him. Carl can feel the heavy thrumming of his heart against his chest, and he kisses the top of Negan’s dampened hair. Negan’s chest stops heaving and he lifts up, pulling out of him. Carl winces at the sudden emptiness as Negan pulls the condom off and folds it over and places it on the floor atop the foil wrapper.

“Are you okay? How was it? How do you feel?” His eyes search Carl’s face and he looks more vulnerable than he thought possible.

“I’m okay,” Carl assures him. He presses his thighs together to dull the ache. He feel his own cum leaking down his thighs and onto the sheets but he doesn't want to move.

Negan wipes his hair away from his forehead. “Was it . . . was it what you expected?”

“It was better,” Carl answers honestly. Even with the pain, the whole experience was exquisite. Carl finds himself already fantasizing about the next time.

“Really?” He grins. Carl nods and Negan leans closer, pressing his forehead to his.

“How was it for you? It will be better once I have more . . . experience,” Carl tells him.

Negan’s grin fades and he presses his fingers under Carl’s chin, tilting his head to make Carl look at him. “Don’t say that; it was great, baby. It was better than great, it was . . . the best,” he says and Carl rolls his eyes. He’s sure Negan has been with far better guys who actually know what to do and when to do it.

Answering Carl’s thoughts, Negan says, “I didn’t love them. It is a completely different experience when you love the person. Honestly, Carl. It’s incomparable. Please don’t doubt yourself or degrade what we just did.” His voice is so soft and sincere, Carl feels his heart swell and he kisses the bridge of Negan’s nose.

Negan smiles and wraps an arm around Carl’s waist, pulling him to his chest. He smells so good; even sweaty Negan is Carl’s favorite scent.

“Does it hurt?” Negan runs his fingers through Carl’s hair and twirls a piece over his index finger.

“Sort of.” Carl laughs. “I’m afraid to stand up.”

Negan squeezes him tighter and kisses his shoulder. “I’ve never been with a virgin before,” he says quietly.

Carl looks up at him and Negan’s eyes are soft, not mocking in the least. “Oh.” Carl’s mind produces a hundred questions about his first time. The when, where, who, and why. But he pushes those thoughts away—he didn’t love them. He has never loved anyone but him. He doesn't care about the people in his past anymore. They are just that: his past. Carl only cares about this beautiful, flawed man who just made love for the first time in his life.

  
An hour later, Negan asks, “Are you ready to get up?”

“I know I should, I just don’t want to,” Carl tells him and rubs his cheek against his chest.

“I don’t want to rush you, but I really have to piss,” Negan tells him and Carl laughs, climbing off him and the bed.

“Ow . . .” Carl says before he can stop himself.

“You okay?” Negan asks for the thousandth time. His hand reaches out to help steady him.

“Yeah, just sore.” Carl cringes when he looks at his sheets. Cum and sweat stained sheets. Gross.

Negan looks over at them. “Yeah, I’ll toss them.” He pulls the sheets off the small bed.

“Not in here. Noah will see them.”

“Okay? So where?” He bounces up and down on his heels. He must have been holding his bladder for a while.

“I don’t know? Can you put them in a dumpster or something when you leave?”

“Who said I was leaving? So, what—you sleep with me and then kick me out?” Negan’s eyes dance with amusement. He grabs his jeans and boxers off the floor and puts them on. Carl grabs Negan’s shirt and holds it out to him.

Carl smacks him on the butt. “Just go pee, and take the sheets out on your way, just in case.” I don’t know why I care so much, but the last thing I need is Steph drilling me for information about losing my virginity.

“Sure. I won’t look like a creep or anything, carrying sheets to my car at night.”

Carl scowls at him and Negan balls the sheets up and walks to the door. “I love you,” he says before walking out.

Now that he has left the room Carl has a little time to collect himself. The memory of Negan hovering over him while he entered him makes Carl’s stomach clench. Now he knows why people make such a big deal about sex. He really have been missing out, but he knows that if his first time wouldn’t have been with Negan, it wouldn’t have been so amazing. He’s snapped from his thoughts by the door opening, causing him to jump slightly.

“Admiring yourself?” Negan smirks and locks the door.

“No . . . I . . .” Carl doesn't know what to say, since he’s just standing in front of the mirror completely naked, fantasizing about Negan’s lips on his skin.

“It’s cool, babe, I would stare at you in the mirror, too,” Negan says, winking and Carl flushes.

“I think I’m going to take a shower,” Carl tells him while trying his best to cover himself with his hands. He doesn't want to wash Negan’s scent off his body, but he needs to wash everything else off.

“I’ll take one, too,” Negan says. Carl raises an eyebrow at him and he holds up his hands mockingly. “Not together, I know. However if we lived together we could.”

Something has changed in him, too, Carl can see it. It’s the way his smile is a little deeper and his eyes brighter. Carl doesn't think that anyone else would be able to spot it, but he knows Negan better than anyone, despite the many secrets of his that Carl plans to uncover.

“What?” Negan cocks his head to the side.

“Nothing, I just love you,” Carl tells him and Negan’s cheeks redden slightly and his face splits into a grin, mirroring his. They both seem to be giddy and high on each other. Carl loves this. When Carl moves to grabs his robe, Negan steps in front of him.

“Have you at least thought about living with me?” he asks.

“You just asked me yesterday. I can only make one life-altering decision at a time.” Carl laughs.

Negan rubs his temples. “I just want to sign the paperwork soon. I have got to get out of that damned frat house.”

“You could just get it on your own?” Carl suggests again.

“I want it to be ours.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to spend as much time with you as I can. Why are you so hesitant? Is it the money? I would pay everything, of course.”

“No you wouldn’t,” Carl scoffs. “If I was to agree to this, I would contribute—I’m not looking for a free ride.” Carl can’t believe they are actually discussing this.

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t known each other that long. I had always thought I wouldn’t live with anyone else until I was married.” Carl explains. That’s not the only reason; he always doesn't want to rely on anyone else. His mother left him and he doesn't trust anyone. Even Negan. That’s what his father did.

“Married? That’s an ancient idea you have there, Carl.” He chuckles and sits down in the chair.

“What’s wrong with marriage?” Carl asks. “Not between us. Just in general,” he adds slowly.

Negan shrugs. “Nothing wrong with it, it’s just not for me.”

This has taken too serious a turn. Carl doesn't want to discuss marriage with Negan, but it does bother him that Negan says marriage isn’t for him. Carl hasn't ever thought about actually marrying him, it’s way too early for that. Years too early. But he would like the option eventually, and wants to be married by the time he’s twenty-five and then have at least two children.

“That bothers you, doesn’t it?” Negan asks, breaking Carl’s thoughts.

  
“No,” Carl says. “I just…”

“So what you’re saying is that you want to marry me? I can promise you that I have no bat-crazy wife hidden in my house.” Negan takes a step toward him. There’s no wife, sure, but it’s the other things Negan hides that worries him.

Carl’s heart is beating out of his chest as Negan closes the gap between them. “What? No, of course not. I was just speaking in terms of all marriage. Not us specifically.” He’s naked and talking to Negan about marriage. What the hell is happening in his life?

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t?”

“No, I wouldn’t. Well, I don’t know—why are we even discussing this?” Carl hides his face in his chest and feels Negan shake with amusement.

“I was just wondering. But now that you’ve presented me with a valid argument, I may have to reconsider my no-marriage stance. You could make an honest man out of me.”

He sounds serious, but there is no way he is. Right? Just as Carl begins to question his sanity, Negan laughs and kisses his temple.

“Can we talk about something else?” Carl groans. Losing his virginity and talking about marriage is way too much for his mushy brain.

“Sure. But I’m not dropping the apartment thing; you have until tomorrow to give me an answer. I won’t wait forever,” Negan says.

“How sweet.” Carl rolls his eyes.

“You know me, Mr. Romantic,” he says and kisses Carl’s forehead. “Now, let’s get a shower. You standing here naked makes me want to throw you on the bed and fuck you all over again.”

Carl shakes his head and pulls out of his embrace before wrapping his towel around his body. “Are you coming or what?” Carl says and grabs toiletry bag.

“I would love to come, but I guess a shower will have to do for now.” Negan winks and Carl swats his arm as they walk into the hall.

  
By the time they both take a shower and lie back in bed it’s almost four in the morning.

“I have to be up in an hour,” Carl groans against his chest.

“You could sleep until seven thirty and still make it on time,” Negan reminds him. Rushing his morning doesn’t sound very appealing, but Carl does need the sleep. Thankfully, he took that nap, so he hopefully won’t be dead on his feet during his first day of actually working at The Governor's.

“Mmm . . .” Carl mumbles against Negan’s skin.

“I’ll fix your alarm,” Negan says and Carl drifts off.

  
~O~

Carl’s eyes are burning from lack of sleep as he combs his hair. He quickly puts on a button down shirt, blue blazer and khaki pants. He steps into his new shoes and checks himself out in the mirror. The outfit is quite flattering, and he looks better than he deserves. He glances over at Negan wrapped in the blanket on Carl’s tiny bed, his feet dangling off the edge, and Carl smiles. He waits until the very last minute to wake him. He considers not waking him at all, but he’s selfish and want to kiss him goodbye.

“I have to leave,” Carl says and gently shake his shoulder.

“I love you,” Negan mumbles and puckers his lips without opening his eyes.

“Are you going to class?” Carl asks after he kisses him.

“Nope,” he says and rolls back over.

Carl places another kiss on his shoulder and grabs his jacket and bag. He wants to crawl back in bed with him so badly. Maybe living with him wouldn’t be so bad; the spend almost every night together anyway. He shakes the thought from his head. It’s a bad idea; it’s too soon. Too soon.

Still, he spends the entire drive imagining getting an apartment with Negan, picking out curtains and painting walls. By the time he hits the elevator at The Governor's, he’s already picked out the shower curtain and bathmats, but when the elevator reaches the third floor a young woman in a dark navy suit steps on and breaks his concentration.

“Hello,” she says and reaches for the elevator buttons. Seeing that the button for the top floor has already been pushed, she leans back against the wall of the elevator.

“Are you new here?” She asks. She smells like soap, and her eyes are a crispy blue, which is a strange contrast to her blonde hair.

“I’m just an intern,” Carl tells her.

“Just an intern?” She laughs.

“I mean, I’m an intern, not an actual employee,” Carl corrects himself nervously.

“I started as an intern a few years ago and was hired on full-time. Do you go to GSU?”

“Yeah, did you?”

“Yep, just graduated last year. Glad that’s over with.” She chuckles. “You’ll like it here.”

“Thanks, I already love it,” Carl says as they step off the elevator.

As he goes to turn the corner, she says, “I never caught your name.”

“Carl, Carl Grimes.”

She smiles and with a small goodbye wave says, “I’m Sophia. Nice to meet you, Carl.”

The same woman from yesterday is at the desk and this time introduces herself as Andrea. She smiles, wishes him good luck, and gestures toward a table full of food and coffee. Carl smiles and thanks her, grabbing a sprinkled donut and a cup of coffee before he heads back to his office. On his desk he finds a thick pile of paper with a note from Mr. Blake telling him to begin his first graphic design and good luck. Carl loves the freedom of this internship—he can’t believe his luck. Digging into his donut, he plucks the note off the paper and gets to work.

Carl’s design is coming along nicely and he can’t seem to stop. He’s only a third of the way done when the phone on his desk rings.

“Hello?” Carl says, then realize he has no clue how to answer his own office phone. Wanting to sound more grown-up, he adds, “I mean, Carl Grimes’ office.” He bites his lip and hears a small laugh on the other end.

“Mr. Grimes, there is someone here to see you. Shall I send him in?” Andrea asks.

“Carl. Call me Carl, please,” He tells her. It seems disrespectful to have her call him Mr. Grimes; she is far more experienced and older than him.

“Carl,” she says, and he can picture her friendly smile. “Should I send him in?” she asks again.

“Oh yeah. Wait, who is it?”

“I’m not sure. A tall young guy with a black hair and a wicked smile,” she whispers and Carl laughs.

“Yeah, I will come out to get him,” he tells her and hangs up.

That Negan is here both thrills and scares him. He hopes everything is okay. When he walks out into the lobby he is standing with his hands in his pockets and Andrea is on the phone. Carl gets the feeling that she is only pretending to be on the phone, but he can’t tell for sure. He hopes that it doesn’t seem like he’s taking advantage of the great opportunity Mr. Blake has given him by having visitors on his second day.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Carl approaches him.

“Yeah, I just wanted to see how your first full day was going.” Negan smiles and rolls his car keys in his hands.

“Oh. It’s great I—” Carl begins, but stops when Mr. Blake strides towards them.

“Well . . . well . . . well . . . Come to grovel for your job back?” Mr. Blake smiles wide at Negan and pats him on the shoulder.

“You wish, old man,” Negan says, laughing, and Carl’s jaw drops. Mr. Blake chuckles and raises his fist before playfully nudging Negan in his ribs. They must be closer than Carl thought.

“So what do I owe the honor? Or are you here to stalk my new intern?” Mr. Blake looks over at him.

“The second. Stalking interns is my favorite pastime.” Carl looks back and forth between them, unsure what to say. He loves seeing this playful side to Negan; it doesn’t come out much.

“Do you have time to get some lunch, if you haven’t already?” Negan asks him. Carl’s eyes dart to the clock on the wall; it’s already noon. The day has gone by quickly.

He looks at Mr. Blake and he shrugs. “You have an hour each day for lunch. A guy’s gotta eat!” He smiles and says goodbye to Negan before disappearing down the hall.

“I texted you a few times to make sure you got here, but you didn’t answer,” Negan tells him when they step onto the elevator.

“I haven’t looked at my phone, I got distracted by my drawing,” Carl tells him and reaches for Negan’s hand.

“You’re okay, right? We’re okay?” Negan asks nervously, his eyes locked into Carl’s.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know. I was just getting worried because you weren’t answering me. I had thought maybe you were starting to regret last night.” He looks down.

“What? Of course not. I honestly didn’t check my phone. I have no regrets from last night, not a single one.” Carl can’t hide his smile as the memories invade his thoughts.

“Good. Well, that’s a damn relief.” He lets out a breath.

“You drove all the way here because you thought I was having regrets?” Carl asks. It’s a little extreme, but flattering all the same.

“Yeah, well, not completely. I also wanted to take you to lunch.” Negan smiles and lifts Carl’s hand to his lips.

They step off the elevator and walk outside. Carl should have brought his jacket. He shivers and Negan looks over to him.

“I have a jacket in my car. We can grab it, then walk around the corner to Brio—it’s really good.” They walk to his car and he pulls his signature black leather jacket out of his trunk, which makes Carl laugh. He must have an entire wardrobe in there. Ever since Carl has met him he’s been pulling clothes out of that trunk.

The jacket is surprisingly warm and smells like Negan. It engulfs him, of course, so he shakes his arms to push the sleeves up.

“Thank you.” Carl kisses him on his jaw.

“It looks good on you—perfect fit.”

Negan takes Carl’s hand as they walk down the sidewalk; they earn a few strange glances from the businessmen and -women on the streets. Sometimes he forgets how different they appear on the outside. They are polar opposites in almost every way, but somehow it works for them.

Brio is a small but quaint Italian place. The floor is covered in beautiful multicolored tiles and the ceiling is a mural of heaven, with chubby smiling cherubs waiting outside white gates, and a pair of angels—one white and one black—locked in an embrace beyond them. The white angel seems to be trying to pull the other through the gates to the other side.

“Car?” Negan says and pulls him by the sleeve.

“Coming,” Carl mumbles and they walk to the table, which is set in the back of the restaurant. Negan sits in the chair right next to him instead of across, pulling his chair closer and resting his elbows on the table. He orders for both of them, but Carl doesn't mind since he’s been here before.

“So you and Mr. Blake are really close, then?” Carl asks.

“I wouldn’t say that. But we know each other well enough.” Negan shrugs.

“You seemed to really get along, I like seeing you that way.”

The hint of a smile tugs at Negan’s lips and he puts his hand on Carl’s thigh. “Do you now?”

“Yes, I like to see you happy.” Carl feels like there is more behind his and Mr. Blake’s relationship than Negan is telling him, but for now he’s not going to push it.

“I am happy. Happier than I thought I would be . . . ever,” he adds.

“What has gotten into you? You’re getting soft on me,” Carl teases and Negan chuckles.

“I can knock over a few tables, bloody a few noses to remind you,” Negan says and Carl pushes his shoulder into his.

“No, thanks.” Carl laughs.

Their food arrives and Carl thanks the waitress. The food looks amazing, and he inhales the great aromas before taking a bite. Negan ordered them some sort of ravioli, and it’s delicious.

“Good, huh?” he brags and fills his mouth with food. Carl nods and does the same.

After they’re finished, Negan and him bicker about who is going to pay for lunch, but he ends up winning.

“You can pay me back later.” He winks behind the waitress’s back.

When they walk back to TG, Negan follows him inside. “You’re coming up?” Carl asks him.

“Yeah, I wanted to see your office, then I will go. Promise.”

“Deal,” Carl tells him and they step onto the elevator. When they reach the top floor Carl gives Negan his jacket back and he shrugs it on. He looks to good in leather.

“Hey, it’s you again.” The girl in the navy suit says as they walk down the hall.

“And it’s you again.” Carl smiles.

Her eyes dart to Negan, who introduces himself.

“Nice to meet you. My name is Sophia; I work in finance.” She give a little wave, then says, “Well, see you around,” and walks away.

When they walk into Carl’s office Negan grabs his wrist and turns Carl to face him. “What the hell was that?” he spits out.

Is he joking? Carl looks down at his wrist in Negan’s hand and takes that as a no. His grip isn’t tight, but it holds Carl in place.

“What?”

“That girl?”

“What about her? I just met her this morning in the elevator.” Carl pulls his wrist away.

“It didn’t seem like you just met; the two of you were just flirting in front of me.”

Carl can’t help it, but he lets out a laugh that’s more like a bark. “What? You’re insane if you think that was flirting. I was being polite and so was she. Why would I flirt with her?” Carl tries to keep his voice down. Causing a scene will not be good for him.

“Why wouldn’t you? She was nice and attractive, suit and all,” Negan says.

Carl realizes that Negan’s seems more hurt and worried than angry. Carl’s instincts tell him to cuss Negan out and tell him to get the hell out, but Carl decides to take a different approach. Just like when he was breaking things at his father’s house.

“Is that what you think? That I want someone like her, someone unlike you?” Carl asks in a gentle voice.

Negan opens his eyes wide, taken aback. Carl knows Negan expected Carl to blow up at him, but this change of pace slows him down and he contemplates what to say next. “I don’t know. Maybe.” His eyes meet his.

“Well, you’re wrong, as usual.” Carl smiles. He needs to talk to him about this later, but his need to make sure Negan knows he has nothing to worry about overpowers Carl’s need to correct him.

“I’m sorry if you think I was flirting with him, but I wasn’t. I wouldn’t do that to you,” Carl assures him. Negan’s eyes soften and Carl brings his hand up to his cheek. How can one person be so strong yet so weak?

“I . . . Okay,” he says.

Carl laughs and caresses his cheek. He loves catching Negan off guard. “What is she, when I have you?”

His eyes flutter and he finally smiles. Carl is relieved that he’s learning how to disengage the bomb that is Negan. “I love you,” he says and presses his lips to his. “I’m sorry for blowing up like that.”

“I accept your apology; now let me show you my office!” Carl says in a cheery voice.

“I don’t deserve you,” Negan says quietly, too quietly. Carl chooses to ignore it and keeps his uplifting attitude.

“So what do you think?” Carl smiles.

Negan chuckles and listens intently as Carl shows him every detail, every book on the shelf and the empty picture frame on his desk.

“I was thinking I want to put a picture of us here,” Carl tells him.

They have never taken any pictures together, and the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind until he placed the empty frame there. Negan doesn’t seem like the type who would smile for a camera, even on a cell phone.

“Oh. I don’t really do pictures,” he says, confirming Carl’s thoughts.

But when Negan sees Carl’s a little embarrassed by being shut down, he strains to say, “I mean… I guess I could take one. Just one, though.”

“Let’s worry about that later.” Carl smiles and Negan seems relieved.

“Now can we move on to how sexy you look in that suit. It’s been driving me crazy since I got here.” His voice is a full octave deeper and he takes a step toward me. My body heats immediately; his words never cease to unravel me.

“You’re lucky I didn’t open my eyes this morning. If I had . . .” He traces his fingertips along the neckline of my dress. “I wouldn’t have let you leave.”

He brings his other hand to the hem of my dress and caresses my thigh.

“Negan…” Carl warns. His voice betrays him and comes out as more of a moan.

“What, babe? You don’t want me to do this?” Negan lifts him up and sits him on the edge of Carl’s desk.

“It’s . . .” Carl’s thoughts are clouded by Negan’s lips against his neck. Carl digs his fingers into Negan’s hair and Negan nips at his skin. “We can’t . . . someone could come in . . . or something.” The words are jumbled and don’t make much sense. Negan puts his hands on Carl’s thighs and opens them farther.

“There is a lock on the door for a reason . . . I really want to take you right here, on this desk. Or maybe against the window.”The idea of what he is proposing sends electricity through Carl’s body. Negan fingers brush over the front on Carl’s boxers and he sucks a breath through his teeth.

“You’re killing me,” Negan groans as feels the spandex underwear that Carl bought yesterday. He can’t believe he’s letting this happen, on a desk in his new office on the second day of his internship. The idea thrills Carl as much as it terrifies him.

“Lock the—” Carl begins, but they are interrupted by the shrill ring of his phone. He jumps straight up and scrambles around the desk to grab it. “Hello? Carl Grimes speaking!”

“Mr. Grimes. Carl,” Andrea corrects herself. “Mr. Blake is leaving for the day and is on his way to your office,” she says with a hint of amusement in her voice.

Carl flushes and thanks her. Clearly she can sense how irresistible Negan is to him.


	13. THIRTEEN

  
Negan leaves shortly after he and Mr. Blake finish bickering about a baseball game. Carl apologizes for having a visitor, but Blake brushes it off, telling him that Negan is like family and he is welcome to come by anytime. Visions of Negan making love to him on the desk take over his imagination and Mr. Blake has to repeat what he said next about payroll three times before Carl comes back to reality.

Carl goes back to reading the comic strip and he’s so into it that he doesn't realize it’s after five when he looks up again. He’s an hour late to leave and have a missed call from Negan. When Carl gets to his car he calls Negan back, but he doesn’t answer. He drives back through moderate traffic, and when he gets to his room, he’s surprised to see Beth on Noah’s bed. He hasn't seen her or Noah in a long time.

“Long time no see,” Carl jokes and drops his bag and pulls off his shoes.

“Yeah . . .” she says and sniffles.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Carl sits on Noah’s bed with her.

“I think Noah and I broke up.” She sobs. It is a strange sight to see Beth crying—she’s usually so strong and sassy.

“Why? What do you mean you think?” Carl asks and puts his hand on her back to comfort her.

“Well, we got in a fight and I broke up with him, but I didn’t mean it. I don’t know why I did it—I was just pissed because he was sitting with her and I know how she is.”

“Who?” He asks, even though he somehow already knows.

“Sherry. You should have seen how she was flirting with him and hanging onto his every word.”

“But she knows you two are together; isn’t she your friend?”

“She doesn’t care about that. She’ll do anything to get male attention.” As he watches Beth cry and wipe her eyes, his already strong dislike of Sherry grows even more.

“I don’t think Noah would go for her; I see the way he looks at you. He really cares about you. I think you should call him and talk it out,” Carl suggests.

“What if he is with her?”

“He’s not,” he assures her. He really doesn't see Noah running off with that man hunting snake.

“How do you know? Sometimes you think you know people, but you don’t,” Beth says and looks into his eyes. “Negan is only—”

“Hey . . .” Negan says as he bursts into the room and then takes in the sad scene before him. “Um . . . should I come back?” He shifts uncomfortably. Negan isn’t the type to comfort a crying person, friend or not.

“No, I’m going to go find Noah and try to apologize.” She stands. “Thank you, Carl.” She hugs him and looks at Negan. They exchange awkward glances before she exits the room.

Negan turns and gives Carl a kiss. “You hungry?”

“Yeah, actually I am,” Carl tells him. He should do some homework, but he’s actually pretty far ahead. He really has no idea how or when Negan actually works.

“I was thinking that after we get something to eat, you could call Charlotte or Enid and see what I should wear to the . . . you know. The wedding.” The mention of Enid’s name tugs at his heart. He hasn't talked to her in a few days and he misses her. He wants to tell her about his internship and maybe even about Negan and him. He hasn't decided that yet, but he stills want to talk to her.

“Yeah, I’ll call Enid. I’m excited for the wedding!” Carl tells him, then realizes he needs to get something to wear to the wedding as well.

“Yeah. Me, too. I’m so thrilled. Could I be more excited?” Negan rolls his eyes and Carl laughs.

“Well, I’m glad you’re at least going. It means a lot to your Hershel and Charlotte.”

Negan shakes his head, but he’s come a long way in the short time that Carl’s known him.

“Yeah . . . yeah. Let’s go eat,” Negan grumbles and grabs Carl’s jacket off the chair.

“Let me change first, geez,” Carl groans. He feels Negan’s eyes on him as he undresses and grabs jeans and a WCU sweatshirt out of his dresser and put them on quickly.

“You look adorable. Handsome office man by day and cute college kid by night,” Negan teases. Carl’s stomach flutters at his words and he leans up on his toes to kiss Negan’s cheek.

They decide to go to the mall and eat so that they can go shopping afterward. Carl calls Enid as they sit down and she tells him that she will ask Charlotte what Negan should wear and call him right back.

“We can find your outfit first, I guess?” he suggests.

“I don’t know what to wear either.” Carl laughs.

“Well, you have the luxury of looking handsome regardless of what you wear.”

“That is not true; you definitely pull off that ‘I don’t give a crap how I look but I look flawless’ look.”

Negan gives Carl a cocky smirk and leans back in his chair. “I do, don’t I?”

Carl rolls his eyes and then notices his phone buzzing. “It’s Enid.”

“Hey,” Enid says, “so she said it would be best if you wear white. I know it’s not the norm, but that’s what my mother wants. And at least try to get Negan in dress pants and a tie. I don’t think they are expecting much from him, to be honest.” She laughs.

“Okay, well, I will do my best to get him in a tie.” Carl looks over at Negan, who frowns comically.

“Good luck. How’s your internship going?”

“It’s good. Well, great, actually. It’s a dream come true. I can’t believe it. I have my own office and I basically get paid to draw all day. It’s perfect. How are classes? I miss Media.”

Negan’s face turns into a real frown, and Carl follows Negan’s eyes to the middle of the food court. Dwight, Tara, and a guy that he has never met before are walking towards them. Dwight gives him a friendly wave and Carl smiles before thinking about it. Negan glares at him and stands up.

“I’ll be right back,” Negan says and walks off in their direction. Carl tries to continue his conversation with Enid and watch Negan at the same time, but he’s not sure what to do.

“Yeah, it isn’t the same without you, but I’m so happy for you. At least Negan hasn’t been in class so I don’t have to deal with him,” Enid says.

“What do you mean he hasn’t been in class? Well, besides today. He was there yesterday. Right?”

“No, I figured he dropped again since you left and he obviously can’t be more than ten feet away from you at all times,” she teases and Carl’s heart warms despite his concern over Negan’s missing classes.

He looks over at Negan, who has his back to him, but he can tell from how stiff his shoulders are that he’s tense. The guy who Carl doesn't recognize has a slick smile on his face and Dwight is shaking his head. Tara seems uninterested in them and focuses on checking out a group of girls walking by. Negan takes a step toward the guy and Carl can’t tell if they are messing around or not.

“I’m so sorry, Enid, but I will call you back,” he says and hangs up. Leaving their trays on the table, he goes over to them, hoping in the back of his mind that no one messes with their food.

“Hey, Carl, how are you?” Dwight asks and moves forward to hug him. Carl feels himself flush and politely hug him back. He knows better than to look up at Negan when their embrace ends. Dwight’s hair is sticking straight up in the front in a very hot, messy way, and he’s wearing all black with this leather jacket that has patches all over the front and back.

“Negan, aren’t you going to introduce your friend?” the stranger says. He smiles and it gives Carl chills. He can tell he is not a nice guy.

“Um, yeah.” Negan waves his hand between them. “This is my friend Carl; Carl, this is Merle.”

Friend? Carl feels like he has just been kicked in the stomach. He tries his best to hide his humiliation and smile.

“Do you go to GSU?” Carl asks. His voice is much more composed than he feels inside.

“Hell, no. I don’t do the college thing.” Merle chuckles coolly. “But if all the boys there looked like you, I would be happy to reconsider.”

Carl gulps and waits for Negan to say something. Oh, right, Carl is his friend. Why would he? Carl stays silent and wishes he had just stayed at the table.

“We are going to the docks tonight; you two should make an appearance,” Dwight says.

“We can’t. Maybe next time,” Negan says. Carl contemplate interrupting and saying he can, but he’s too pissed-off to speak.

“Why not?” Merle asks.

“He has to work tomorrow. I suppose I can drop by later. Alone,” Negan adds.

“That’s too bad.” Merle smiles at Carl. His sandy blond hair falls over his eyes and he shakes his head to move it.

Negan clenches his jaw and looks at Merle. Carl feels like he’s missing something. Who is this guy, anyway?

“Yeah, I’ll hit you up later when I’m on my way,” Negan says and Carl stalks away.

He hears Negan’s boots stomping behind him but he keeps walking. Negan doesn’t call his name, since he’s sure he doesn’t want his friends to think anything, but Negan keeps following him. Carl walks faster and dips into Macy’s and turns a sharp corner, hoping to lose him. No such luck; Negan grabs his elbow and turns Carl to face him.

“What’s wrong?” Negan’s annoyance is obvious.

“Oh, I don’t know, Negan!” Carl shouts. An elderly woman looks at him and he gives her an apologetic smile.

“Me either! You’re the one who just hugged Dwight!” Negan yells. They are already attracting an audience, but Carl’s fuming so he doesn't care at the moment.

“Are you embarrassed of me or something? I mean, I get it, I’m not exactly the cool guy, but I thought . . .”

“What? Hell no! Of course I’m not embarrassed of you. Are you fucking crazy?” Negan huffs. Carl feels crazy at the moment.

“Why did you introduce me as your friend? You keep talking about living together and then you tell them we are friends? What are you going to do, hide me? I won’t be anyone’s secret. If I’m not good enough for your friends to know we’re together, then I don’t want to be.” Carl turns on his heel and walks away to punctuate his little speech.

“Carl! Damn it . . .” Negan says and follows him through the store. Carl reaches the dressing rooms and glances at them.

  
Maybe if he runs faster enough-

“I will follow you,” Negan says, reading Carl’s thoughts.

He will, too. So Carl turns and heads toward the exit of the store. “Take me home. Now,” he demands. He stays quiet and at least ten feet ahead of Negan as they walk out of the mall and to his car. Negan moves to open the door for him but backs away when Carl glares. If Carl was him, he would keep his distance.

Carl stares out the window and thinks of all the terrible things he could say to him but he stays silent. He’s mostly just embarrassed that Negan feels like he can’t tell people they are together. Carl knows not like his friends and they probably all think he’s a loser or not cool enough, but that shouldn’t matter to Negan. Carl finds himself wondering if Dwight would hide their relationship from his friends, and he can’t help but think that he wouldn’t. Come to think of it, Negan has never actually called Carl his boyfriend. Carl probably should have waited to sleep with him until Negan at least confirmed they were dating.

“Are you done throwing a fit?” Negan asks as they pull onto the highway.

“A fit? You aren’t serious!” Carl’s voice fills his small car.

“I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to you that I called you my friend; that’s not what I meant. I was just caught off guard,” Negan lies. Carl can tell he is lying by the way Negan's eyes dart away from his.

“If you are embarrassed of me, then I don’t want to see you anymore,” Carl says. He digs his nails into his leg to keep from crying.

“Don’t say that to me.” Negan runs his hand over his hair and takes a deep breath. “Carl, why do you assume I am embarrassed of you? That is just fucking ridiculous,” he growls.

“Have fun at your party tonight.”

“Please, I’m not going, I just said that so Merle would lay off.”

What Carl says next he knows is a terrible idea, but he wants to prove a point: “If you aren’t embarrassed of me, then take me to the party.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Negan says through his teeth.

“Exactly,” Carl snaps.

“I’m not taking you there because Merle is a dick, for one. Two, it’s not the kind of place you should be.”

“Why not? I can handle myself.”

“Merle and his friends are way out of your league, Carl. Hell, they’re even out of my league. They are all stoners and scum.”

“Then why are you friends with him?” Carl rolls his eyes.

“There is a big difference between being friendly and being friends.”

“Well, why would Dwight hang out with him, then?”

“I don’t know. Merle isn’t one of those guys that you say no to,” he explains.

“So you’re afraid of him. That’s why you didn’t say anything when he came onto me,” Carl points out. Merle must be really bad if Negan is afraid of him.

Negan surprises him by laughing. “I’m not afraid of him. I just don’t want to provoke him. He likes games, and if I provoked him with you he would turn you into a game.” His knuckles turn white from his grip on the steering wheel.

“Well, good thing we’re just friends, then,” Carl says and looks out the window at the beautiful view of the city passing by. He’s not perfect; he knows he’s acting childish but he can’t help it. Knowing how big of a creep Merle is, he gets why Negan did what he did, but that doesn’t make it hurt less.

  
When they get to the room, Carl plops down on the bed. He’s still angry with Negan but not as angry as he was. He doesn't want any more attention from Merle than necessary, but meeting him has only raised more questions that he knows Negan doesn’t want him to ask.

“I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Negan says. Carl doesn't look at him because he knows he will turn to mush. Negan needs to know that Carl won’t put up with him doing things like this. “Do . . . you . . . do you still want me?” Negan asks, his voice shaky.

When Carl looks over at him, he can see Negan’s vulnerability. Carl sighs, knowing he’s not able to hold on to his anger when Negan’s eyes are so full of worry.

“Yeah, of course I do. Come here,” Car tells him and pats the bed next to him. He has no willpower when it comes to this man.

“Do you consider me your boyfriend?” Carl asks as Negan sits down.

“Yeah. I mean, it just seems a little silly to call you that,” Negan says with a sad smile.

“Silly?” Carl says, staring at the floor.

“You’re more to me than some adolescent title.” Negan puts his large hands on both sides of Carl’s face. His answer makes Carl’s stomach flip in the best way. Carl can’t help the grin that is plastered on his face. Negan’s shoulders immediately relax.

“I don’t like that you don’t want people to know about us—how would we live together if you won’t even tell your friends about us?”

“It’s not like that. Do you want me to call Dwight right now and tell him? If anything, you should be embarrassed to be with me. I see the way people look at us when we are together,” Negan says. So he does notice the way people look at the two of them.

“They only stare at us because we look different, and that’s their problem. I would never be embarrassed to be seen with you. Ever, Negan.”

“You had me worried that you were going to give up on me,” Negan says.

“Give up on you?”

“You’re the only constant in my life; you know that, don’t you? I don’t know what I would do if you left me,” he says.

“I won’t leave you if you don’t give me a reason to,” Carl assures him, but he can’t think of a single thing Negan could do to make Carl leave him. Carl’s in too deep. Thinking of leaving Negan sends a pain through Carl’s body that he can’t bear. It would break him. Even if they fight every single day, Carl loves him.

“I won’t,” Negan says. He looks away for a second, then meets Carl’s eyes again. “I like who I am with you.”

Carl turns his cheek into Negan’s hand farther. “I do, too.”

Carl loves him, every part of him. All versions of him. Mostly, he likes who he has become with him; they have both been changed for the better by each other. Carl has somehow gotten Negan to open up and have brought happiness to him, and Negan has taught Carl how to live and not worry about every detail.

“I know I piss you off sometimes . . . well, a lot of the time, and God knows you drive me fucking insane,” Negan says.

“Thanks?”

“I’m just saying, just because we fight doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be together. Everyone fights.” He smiles. “We just fight more than normal people. You and I are very different people, so we’ll just have to figure out how to navigate one another. It will get easier,” Negan assures him.

Carl returns his smile and run his fingers through Negan’s dark hair.

“We still didn’t get anything to wear to the wedding,” Carl points out.

“Oh well, looks like we can’t go.” Negan turns his face into the most insincere frown Carl has ever seen and kisses his nose.

“You wish. It’s only Tuesday. We have all week.”

“Or we could skip it and I could take you to Atlanta for the weekend?” Negan lifts an eyebrow.

“What?” Carl sits up. “I mean, no! We are going to the wedding,” he corrects himself. “But you could take me to Atlanta next weekend.”

“Nope, offer’s only good for a limited time,” Negan teases and pulls Carl onto his lap.

“Fine, I guess I’ll have to find someone else to take me to Atlanta.” Negan’s jaw tenses and Carl traces his fingertips over the stubble on his chin and jaw.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Negan’s lips twitch to hold his smile.

“Oh, I most certainly would. Atlanta is my favorite place, after all.”

“Your favorite place?”

“Yeah, I haven’t really been anywhere else.”

“Where is the farthest place you’ve gone?” he asks.

Carl lays his head on Negan’s chest and he lies back against the headboard, wrapping his arms around him. “Atlanta. I haven’t left Georgia.”

“Ever?” he exclaims.

“Nope, never.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, we just didn't have time to after my mom left. My dad and stepmom worked all the time and I was too focused on school and getting out of that town that I didn’t really think of much else, except working.”

“Where would you want to go?” Negan asks, his fingers rubbing up and down my arm.

“Paris. Italy. Germany or Russia!” Carl grins. “Even China… I don't know… anywhere.”

“I could take you there.” Negan’s tone is serious.

“Let’s just start with Atlanta.” Carl says with a smile.

“I mean it, Carl. I could take you anywhere you want to go. Especially South Carolina. I did grow up there, after all. You could meet my mom and the rest of my family.”

“Um,” Carl doesn't have anything to say. Negan is so strange, he introduces Carl as his “friend” an hour ago, and now Negan’s taking Carl to South Carolina to meet his mother.

“Let’s just start with Atlanta?” Carl laughs nervously.

“Fine, but I know you would love to drive through the Southern countryside, see the house I grew up in.”

Carl can’t imagine how his father would react to him leaving the state or country with Negan. He would probably lock Carl in his attic and never let him out. Carl still hasn't spoken to him since he stormed out of his dorm after threatening Carl in an attempt to get him to stop seeing Negan. Carl wants to avoid that inevitable argument for as long as he can.

“What’s wrong?” Negan asks and dips his head down in front of Carl’s face.

“Nothing, sorry, I was just thinking of my father.”

“Oh. He’ll come around, babe.” Negan sounds so sure, but Carl knows him better than that.

“I don’t think so, but let’s talk about something else.”

They start talking about the wedding, but Negan’s phone vibrates in his pocket after a moment. Carl shifts off him so Negan can get it out, but Negan makes no move to do so.

“Whoever it is can wait,” Negan says, which makes Carl happy.

“Will we be staying at Hershel’s house Saturday after the wedding?” Carl asks. He needs to get his mind off his father.

“Is that what you want to do?” he asks.

“Yeah, I like it there. This bed is tiny.” Carl crinkles his nose and Negan laughs.

“We could stay at my place more often. What about tonight?”

“I have my internship in the morning.”

“So? You can bring your stuff with you and get ready in an actual bathroom. I haven’t been to my room in a while; they are probably already trying to rent it out,” Negan jokes. “Don’t you want to take a shower without thirty other people in the same room?”

“Sold.” Carl smiles and climbs off the bed.

Negan helps him pack his things for tomorrow and Carl grows more and more excited to go to the frat house. He hated that house, and still pretty much does, but the thought of a shower in an actual bathroom and Negan’s large bed is too appealing to pass up. Negan grabs the red underwear out of Carl’s dresser and hands it to him with a series of eager nods, and Carl flushes before shoving it in his bag. He packs one of his old black skirtants and a white top, wanting to space out his new suits.

  
“You could bring extra clothes with you so you won’t have to bring so much next time,” Negan suggests. Negan wants Carl to keep clothes at his place. Carl loves how it’s a given that they will stay the night together every night.

“I guess I could,” Carl says and grabs his new blue suit and a few other random things.

“You know what would make it much easier?” Negan asks, and pulls Carl’s bag over his shoulder as they head outside.

“What?” Carl already knows what he is going to say.

“If we both lived at the same place.” Negan smiles. “We wouldn’t have to decide which place to stay at and you wouldn’t have to pack a bag. You would have a private shower every day—well, not totally private.” He winks playfully. And just when Carl thinks Negan’s done, when they get to his car and Negan opens the door for him, adding, “You could wake up and make your own coffee in our kitchen and get ready for the day and we could meet up at our place at the end of every day. None of this roommate or frat house shit.”

Every time he says “our” Carl’s stomach flutters. The more he thinks about it, the better it sounds. He is just terrified of moving too fast with Negan. He doesn't want it to blow up in his face.

As they drive to the house, Negan puts his hand on Carl’s thigh and again says, “Stop overthinking it.” Carl hears Negan’s phone vibrating again, but he ignores it. This time Carl can’t help but be a little suspicious of why Negan isn’t picking up the phone, but Carl pushes the thought from his head.

“What are you afraid of?” Negan asks when Carl doesn't respond.

“I don’t know. What if something happens with my internship and I can’t afford it? Or if something happens with us?”

Negan frowns but recovers quickly. “Babe, I already told you I would pay for the place. It was my idea, and I make more, so let me do this.”

“I don’t care how much you make. I don’t like the idea of you paying for everything.”

“You can pay cable, then?” Negan smirks.

“Cable and groceries?” Carl offers. He can’t decide if he’s speaking hypothetically anymore or not.

“Deal. Groceries... that sounds nice, doesn’t it? You could have my dinner ready every night when I get home.”

“What? It would be the other way around.” Carl laughs.

“We could rotate days?”

“Deal.”

“So you’re moving in with me then?”

Carl doesn't think he has ever seen a deeper grin on Negan’s perfect face.

“I didn’t say that, I was just . . .”

“You know I will take care of you, right? Always,” Negan promises.

Carl wants to tell him that he's doesn't want to be taken care of, that he wants to earn things and pay for his own share of things, but he gets the feeling Negan isn’t talking just financially.

“I’m afraid this is too good to be true,” Carl finally admits to Negan and himself.

Negan surprises Carl by saying, “Me, too.”

“Really?” He’s relieved that Negan feels the same way.

“Yeah, the thought crosses my mind all the time. You’re too good for me and I’m just waiting on you to realize it, and hoping that you don’t,” Negan says, his eyes focused on the road.

“That’s not going to happen.” And Carl means it.

Negan doesn’t say anything. He looks doubtful about something.

“Okay.” Carl breaks the silence.

“Okay what?”

“Okay. I will move in with you.” Carl smiles.

Negan lets out a breath that sounds like he has been holding it for hours. “Really?” His dimples pop as he shakes his head and flashes a smile.

“Yeah.”

“You have no idea what this means to me, Car.” Negan puts his hand over Carl’s and squeezes. Negan turns onto his street and Carl’s mind races. They are really doing this, they are moving in together. Him and Negan. Alone. All the time. In their own place. Their own bed. Their everything. He’s scared as hell, but his excitement is stronger than his nervousness, for the moment at least.

“Don’t call me Car or I will change my mind,” Carl teases.

“You said only friends and family can call you that. I think I’ve earned it.”

He remembers that? Carl grins. “Point well made. Call me whatever you want.”

“Oh, babe, I wouldn’t say that if I were you. I have a whole list of perverted things I would love to call you.” Negan’s smile is wicked, and Carl finds himself wanting to hear his dirty words, but he stops himself from asking and squeezes his legs together. Negan must notice, because his smile grows.

Just as Carl’s coming up with a line about how perverted he is, the words are lost in his throat. Pulling up to the house, they see that the yard is littered with people and the street is full of cars.

“Damn it, I didn’t know they were having a party tonight. It’s fucking Tuesday. See, this is the shit—”

“It’s fine. We can just go straight to your room,” Carl interrupts, trying to defuse Negan’s irritation.

“Fine,” Negan sighs.

When they walk into the crowded house, Negan and him head straight for the stairs. Just as he begins to think he made it without running into anyone he knows, he spots a mound of greasy, sandy blond hair at the top of the stairs. Merle.

  
Negan notices Merle the same time that Carl does and turns to look at Carl, then back at Merle, tensing immediately. For a second it seems like Negan might turn them around, but then Merle definitely spots them, and Carl knows Megan won’t risk antagonizing him by backing away now. All around them, the party rages, but all Carl can focus on is Merle’s mischievous smile, which flat-out gives him the creeps.

As they reach the top of the stairs, Merle gives an exaggerated look of surprise and says, “Didn’t think I’d see you two here, you know, since you couldn’t make it to the docks and all.”

“Yeah, we were just coming here—” Negan begins.

“Oh, I get why you were coming here.” Merle smiles and pats Negan on his shoulder. Carl cringes as his green eyes move to him. “It’s definitely a pleasure to see you again, Carl,” he says coolly.

Carl glances at Negan, but Negan is too focused on Merle to notice. “Yeah, you, too,” Carl manages.

“Well, good thing you didn’t come to the docks anyway. Cops came and broke up our party, so we moved it here.”

Meaning that Merle’s slimy friends are here somewhere—more people Negan doesn’t like. Carl wishes they had just stayed at his dorm. By the look in Negan’s eyes he can tell he wishes the same.

“That sucks, man,” Negan says and then tries to continue on down the hall.

Merle grabs Negan’s arm and says, “You two should come down and have a drink with us.”

“He doesn’t drink,” Negan huffs, annoyance clear in his voice. Unfortunately, that annoyance seems to encourage Merle even more.

“Oh well. You should still come have some fun. I insist,” Merle says.

Negan looks at Carl, and Carl’s eyes widen as he tries to silently say, No! But then Negan nods at Merle. What the hell?

“I’ll come down in a minute; let me get him settled in,” Negan mumbles, then pulls Carl by my wrist to his room before Merle can say anything. Unlocking the door to his room, Negan hurries Carl inside and quickly closes the door.

“I don’t want to go down there,” Carl tells him as Negan sets his bag down.

“You’re not.”

“And you are?” Carl asks him.

“Yeah, just for a minute. I won’t be long.” Negan rubs the back of his neck with his hand.

“Why didn’t you just tell him no?” Carl asks. For someone who claims he isn’t afraid of him, Negan seems to be very intimidated by Merle.

“I already told you, he is hard to say no to,” Negan says.

“Does he have something over you or something?”

“What?” Negan’s face flushes, _panicking_ slightly. “No, he’s just a dick. And I don’t want any trouble. Especially not around you,” Negan says and steps forward to him. “I won’t be down there long, but I know him, and if I don’t go have a drink with him he will come back up here—and I don’t want him anywhere near you,” Negan says and kisses Carl on the cheek.

“Okay,” Carl sighs.

“I need you to stay in here, though. I know it’s not ideal, with the music bumping downstairs, but I can’t really think of a way out at this point.”

“Okay,” Carl repeats. He doesn't want to go down there anyway. He hates these parties, and he definitely doesn't want to see Sherry if she is here.

“I mean it. Okay?” Negan demands in a soft voice.

“I said okay. Just don’t leave me up here alone for long,” Carl pleads.

“I won’t. We should go sign that paperwork tomorrow for the apartment. Right after you get done at TG’s. I don’t want to worry about this kind of shit again.”

Carl doesn't want to have to deal with these parties and his small dorm anymore. He wants to eat his meals in a kitchen instead of a dining hall, and he wants the freedom of being an adult. Spending time on campus and living there only reminds him how young they actually are.

“All right, I will be back soon. Lock the door when I go out and don’t open it again—I have a key.” Negan swiftly kisses Carl’s lips and turns for the door.

“Geez, you act like someone is going to murder me,” Carl jokes, to break the tension, not that Negan returns the laugh before walking out of the room. Carl rolls his eyes but locks the door anyway; the last thing he wants to deal with is drunk people wandering in here looking for a place to fool around.

Carl turns on Negan’s television, hoping to drown out some of the noise from downstairs, but his mind keeps wandering to what’s going on down there. Why is Negan so intimidated by Merle, and why is Merle such a creep? Are they playing their usual immature game of Truth or Dare again? What if Negan is dared to kiss Sherry? What if she is sitting on his lap like before? Carl hates the jealousy that he feels toward her—it drives him insane. Carl knows Negan has slept with and fooled around with many different girls, Beth included, but Sherry just gets under his skin. Maybe it’s because he knows she doesn’t like him and she tries to shove her fling with Negan down his throat.

And eventually all these thoughts get to him; he knows he should stay put and keep the door locked, but his feet have other plans and before he knows it, he’s taking the steps two at a time to find Negan.

When he reaches the bottom of the stairs he spots Sherry’s brown hair and barely her outfit. Much to his relief, Negan isn’t anywhere to be found.

“Well, well, well,” a voice from behind him says. Carl turns to see Merle standing less than a foot away.

“Negan said you weren’t feeling well. He’s _always_ lying, that one.” Merle smiles and pulls a lighter out of his pocket. He flicks the top with his thumb, igniting the flame, and brings it to the hem of his jean vest to burn off some of the fringe.

Carl decides to keep Negan’s lie going. “I wasn’t, but I’m feeling a bit better now.”

“So quickly?” Merle laughs, obviously amused.

The room feels much smaller now and the party crowd seems larger. Carl nods and surveys the room, desperate to find Negan.

“Come, I want you to meet some of my friends,” Merle says. His voice never fails to send a shiver down Carl’s spine.

“No. I think I sh-should find Negan,” Carl stutters.

“Aww, come on. Negan is over there with them anyway,” Merle says and moves to put his arm over Carl’s shoulder.

Carl takes a step aside to pretend that he didn’t notice his gesture. He considers going back upstairs so Negan doesn’t know he came down in the first place, but he gets the feeling Merle will follow him or tell Negan. Most likely both.

“Okay,” Carl says, giving in. He follows Merle through the crowd, and he leads Carl outside to the backyard. It’s dark but for a few porch lights. Carl starts to feel nervous about following Merle out into the dark yard until his eyes meet Negan’s. Negan’s widen with surprise, then anger, and he moves to stand up but then sits back down.

“Look who I found wandering around all by himself,” Merle says and gestures to Carl.

“I see that,” Negan mumbles. He is pissed.

Carl stands in front of the small circle of unrecognizable faces sitting around what looks like a fire pit made from large rocks, not that there’s any fire going. There are some girls there, but mostly it’s pretty tough-looking guys.

“Come here,” Negan says and scoots over so there is room for him on the rock that he is sitting on.

Carl takes a seat and Negan gives Carl a look that says if all these people weren’t around he would be absolutely screaming at him. Merle leans over and says something into the ear of a guy with a ripped-up white shirt and black hair.

“Why aren’t you in my room?” Negan says quietly but forcefully.

“I . . . I don’t know. I thought maybe Sherry . . .” Carl begins to say but realize how stupid it sounds.

“You’re not serious,” Negan says with a hint of exasperation and runs his hand over his hair. The attention is put back on us when the black-haired guy hands Carl a bottle of vodka. “He doesn’t drink,” Negan says and grabs it out of Carl’s hands.

“Damn, Travis, he can speak for himself,” another guy says. He has a nice smile and doesn’t seem as creepy as Merle or the guy with the black hair.

Negan laughs lightly, though Carl can tell it’s a fake laugh. “Mind your own business, Carter,” Negan says in a light tone.

“So who’s up for a game?” Merle asks and Carl looks at Negan.

“Please tell me you guys don’t play Truth or Dare at parties too. Honestly, what is up with playing games, anyway?” Carl groans.

“Ooh, I like him. Nice and feisty,” Carter says and Carl laughs.

“Who says there is anything wrong with playing a few games now and then?” Merle slurs and Negan _tenses_ next to Carl, looking _nervous_.

_Why does Negan get so nervous when Carl is around his friends?_

“No, actually we were thinking of strip poker,” another guy says.

“Oh, no way,” Carl tells them, breaking his train of thought on Negan’s suspicious behavior.

“What about suck and blow?” Merle says and Carl cringes and blushes. He’s not sure what that is, but it doesn’t sound like something he wants to play with this group.

“Never heard of it. But no, thanks,” Carl says. He sees Negan's smile out of the corner of his eye.

“It’s a fun game, more fun when you have had a drink or two,” a male voice says from somewhere.

Carl thinks about grabbing the bottle from Negan and taking a drink, but Carl has to get up early and he doesn't want to have a hangover.

“We don’t have enough people to play suck and blow, anyway,” Carter says.

“I can get some,” Merle says and disappears into the house before anyone can protest.

“Go back upstairs, please,” Negan says quietly so only Carl can hear.

“If you come with me,” Carl responds.

“Okay, let’s go.”

But as they stand up, a groan goes up from the circle. “Where you going, Travis?” one of the guys asks.

“Upstairs,” Negan answers.

“Come on, we haven’t seen you in months. Hang out for a little while longer.”

Negan looks at Carl and Carl shrugs. “All right, fine,” Negan says and guides him back to the large stone. “I’ll be right back. Stay here this time. I mean it,” Negan tells him and Carl rolls his eyes, finding it pretty ironic that Negan’s leaving him alone with what is supposedly the worst group of people here.

“Where are you going?” Carl asks him before he walks away.

“To get a drink. You may need one, too.” Negan smiles and goes inside.

Carl stares at the sky and the fire pit alternately to avoid any awkward conversation. It doesn’t work.

“So how long have you and Negan known each other?” Carter asks and takes a swig of liquor.

“A few months,” Carl answers politely. Something about Carter is comforting; his senses aren’t on high alert with him like they are with Merle.

“Oh, so not long, then?” Carter says.

“Um, yeah, I guess. Not long. How long have you known him?” Carl asks, realizing he might as well use this opportunity to get as much information about Negan as possible.

“Since last year.”

“Where did you meet him?” Carl tries to sound casual.

“Party. Well, a lot of parties.” He laughs.

“Oh, you’re his friend, then?”

“Nosey little thing, aren’t you?” the guy with the black hair chimes in.

“Sure am,” Carl replied and the stranger laughs. They aren’t so bad, not as bad as Negan made them out to be. Where is he, anyway?

A few moments later Negan appears with Merle and three girls behind them. What the hell? Merle and Negan seem to be in conversation and Merle pats Negan on the back and they both laugh.

Negan’s hands are full with two red cups. Carl’s just relieved that Sherry isn’t among the group of girls trailing them. Negan sits back down on the rock with Carl and gives him a playful little look. At least Negan seems to be more relaxed than he was before he walked away.

“Here,” he says and hands Carl one of the cups.

Carl stares at it for a second before grabbing it from him. One drink won’t hurt. He recognizes the taste instantly; the night that Dwight and him kissed they had been drinking these. Negan stares at him and Carl licks his lips to collect the taste of the drink.

“Now we have enough people,” Merle says and gestures to the newcomers.

Carl looks over to them and fights the instinct to judge. They are scantily clad in skirts, and their shirts are identical except the colors. The one in the pink shirt smiles at him, so he decides that he likes her the best.

“You aren’t playing,” Negan says in his ear. Carl wants to tell him that he will do whatever the hell he pleases, but Negan leans into him and puts his arm around his waist. Carl looks up at him, obviously surprised, but Negan just smiles.

“I love you,” Negan whispers. His lips are cold against Carl’s ear and Carl shivers.

“Okay, so everyone knows how this works,” Merle says loudly. “We all need to get in a smaller circle. But first, let’s really get the party going.” He smirks and pulls something out of his pocket. His lighter appears again and lights the small white object.

“It’s pot,” Negan tells him quietly. Carl figured that it was, even if he hasn't actually seen marijuana before.

Carl nods and watches as Merle brings the joint to his lips and lets out a large puff of smoke before holding it out in front of Negan. Negan shakes his head and declines. Carter grabs it and inhales deeply, coughing loudly.

“Carl?” Carter says and holds it out.

“No. No, thanks,” He says and leans farther into Negan.

“All right, then, let’s play,” one of the girls says and pulls something from her purse as everyone moves from their rocks and forms a smaller circle on the grass.

“Come on, Negan!” Merle groans, but Negan shakes his head.

“I’m good, man,” he says.

“We need one more person then, unless you want to take the chance of having Dave’s tongue down your throat.” Carter laughs. Dave must be the guy with the black hair. A quiet redhead with a lot of facial hair takes a hit from the joint and passes it back to Merle. Carl finishes the last sip of his drink and reaches for Negan’s. Negan lifts a brow at him but lets him take it.

“I’ll grab Sherry. God knows she’ll be down,” the girl in the pink shirt says.

When Carl hears her name, his hatred for Sherry takes over his common sense and he blurts out, “I’ll play.”

“Really?” Merle questions.

“Is he allowed?” Dave asks with a smirk and looks at Negan.

“I can do what I please, thanks,” Carl says and gives him an innocent smile despite his sarcastic tone.

Carl knows better than to look at Negan, who has already told him not to play, but Carl just couldn’t keep his big mouth shut. He downs the rest of his drink, then takes a seat next to the girl in the pink shirt.

“You have to sit in between two guys,” the girl tells him.

“Oh, okay,” Carl says and gets up.

“I’m playing, too,” Negan grumbles and sits down. Carl sits next to him instinctively, but still avoids eye contact. Merle sits on his other side.

“I think Negan should sit over here to make things more interesting,” Dave says, and the redhead nods in agreement.

Negan rolls his eyes and moves across from Carl. Carl doesn't get the point of this seating arrangement—why does it matter who sits by whom? When Dave moves to sit next to him, Carl begins to feel nervous. Sitting between him and Merle is more than uncomfortable.

“Can we start?” the girl in green whines. She is sitting between Negan and the redhead. Merle grabs what looks like a piece of paper from one of the girls and puts it to his mouth.

What?

“Ready?” Merle asks him.

“I don’t know how to play,” Carl confesses and hears one of the girls snicker.

“You put your mouth on the other side of the paper and suck in; the point is to not let the paper fall. If it falls, you kiss,” he explains.

Oh no. Carl looks over at Negan, but he is focused on Merle.

“Start this way so he can see,” the girl on the other side of Merle says.

Carl doesn't like this game at all. He hopes it somehow ends before it’s his turn. Or Negan’s. Besides, they seem a little old to be playing these ridiculous games. What is it with college kids wanting to kiss random people every chance they get? Carl watches as the paper is passed between Merle’s and the girl’s mouth; it doesn’t drop. Carl holds his breath as Negan retrieves the paper from the one girl, then passes it to the other. If he kisses one of them . . . Carl lets out his breath when it doesn’t fall. The paper falls between the redhead and the girl in the yellow shirt and their lips meet. Her mouth opens and they kiss with tongue, making him look away and cringe. Carl wants to get up and leave the circle, but his body stays still. He’s next.

Oh God, he’s next. Carl gulps as Dave turns to him with the paper on his lips. Carl’s still not entirely sure what he’s supposed to do, so he just closes his eyes and goes to put his mouth on the other side and suck in. He feels hot air through the paper as Dave blows onto it, but Carl can tell it’s too hard and there’s no way the paper won’t fall. Right as he feels the paper hit his arm, he feels Dave’s hot breath as his mouth moves closer to his. The second their lips brush, Dave is pulled away.

Carl opens his eyes, but by the time his mind can catch up to what is happening, Negan is on top of Dave and has his hands latched around the guy’s neck.

~O~

Carl scrambles backward with his hands as Negan lifts Dave’s head, his hands still wrapped around his neck, and slams it down into the grass. For a second Carl wonders if Negan would have done the same thing when they were on the concrete porch or near the fire pit stones, and he feels like his answer comes in the form of Negan raising one fist high and slamming it into Dave’s jaw.

“Negan!” Carl screams and climbs to his feet. Everyone else just stares, Merle seeming amused and even Carter entertained.

“Stop him!” Carl begs, but Merle shakes his head as Negan’s fist connects again to Dave’s already bloody face.

“This has been coming for a while; let them hash it out.” Merle smirks at him. “Want a drink?”

“What? No, I don’t want a drink! What the hell is wrong with you!” Carl yells.

A crowd has now gathered around and people are cheering on the fight. Carl has yet to see Dave hit Negan, for which he’s glad, but he definitely wants Negan to stop hurting Dave. He’s too afraid to try to stop Negan myself, so when Dwight appears in the yard, he yells for him. His eyes find Carl’s immediately and he jogs over.

“Stop him, please!” Carl yells. Everyone seems excited about this except him. If Negan keeps hitting him, he will kill Dave. He knows it.

Dwight gives him a quick nod and takes a few steps over to Negan. He wraps his fist into Negan’s shirt and pulls him backward. Negan is caught off guard, so he’s easily separated from Dave’s prone body. Enraged, Negan takes a swing at Dwight, but Dwight dodges his fist and puts both of his hands on Negan’s shoulders. He says something to Negan that Carl can’t make out and then nods his head towards him. Negan’s eyes are blazing, his knuckles bloody and his shirt ripped from Dwight’s grip. Negan’s chest is pumping up and down rapidly, like he’s a wild animal after a kill. Carl doesn't make a move to walk toward him; he knows how angry he is at him. Carl can tell. He’s not afraid of Negan the way he probably should be. Even though he just witnessed him completely losing his temper in the worst way possible, Carl knows that Negan would never physically hurt him.

With the excitement winding down, almost everyone begins to move back inside the house. Dave’s crumpled body lies on the ground and Merle leans down to help him up. He stumbles to his feet and lifts his shirt up to wipe his bloody face off, spitting out a mixture of blood and saliva that makes Carl look away.

Negan’s head turns to look where Dave’s is and he tries to take a step toward him. Dwight holds Negan tight to stop him.

“Fuck you, Travis!” Dave yells. Merle steps between them. Oh, now he wants to do something. “ _Just wait until your little boyfriend finds out about the—_ ” Dave shouts.

“Shut the fuck up,” Merle snaps and Dave’s mouth closes.

Dave looks at Carl and Carl takes a step back. He wonders what Merle meant by “this has been coming for a while.” And what was Dave about to say about Negan and his ‘little boyfriend’? Negan and Dave seemed fine together a few minutes ago.

“Go inside!” Negan yells, and Carl immediately knows that he is talking to him.

Carl decides to listen to him, for once, and turns around and runs into the house. He knows that everyone is staring at him but he doesn't care. He pushes his way through the crowded house and rush up to Negan’s room. He must have forgotten to lock it when he left, and, to add to his horror, there is a big red spot on the carpet. Someone must have stumbled in here and spilled a drink on the tan carpet. Great. He hurries to the bathroom and grabs a towel and turns the sink on. He locks Negan’s door once he steps inside and furiously wipes the stain, but the water only spreads the spot and makes it much worse. The door clicks and Carl tries to stand before he enters.

“What the hell are you doing?” Negan’s eyes move to the towel in Carl’s hand then to the spot on the floor.

“Someone . . . I forgot to lock the door when I went downstairs,” Carl says and look at him. Negan’s nostrils flare and he takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” Carl says.

The anger is radiating off Negan and Carl can’t even be angry with him because all of this is his fault. If he would have just listened to him and stayed in the room, none of this would have happened.

Negan runs his hands over his face in afrustration and Carl takes a step toward him. Negan’s fingers are busted and bloody, reminding him of his fight at the stadium. Negan surprises him by grabbing the towel from his hands and Carl reflexively jumps back a little. Negan’s eyes flash with confusion and he tilts his head slightly as he uses the nonstained portion of the towel to wipe his knuckles off.

Carl expected him to barge through the door and break things while screaming at him; instead he’s granted with his silence, which turns out to be much worse.

“Could you please say something?” Carl begs.

Negan’s words come even slower than usual. “Trust me, Carl, you don’t want me to speak right now.”

“Yes, I do,” Carl tells him. He can’t stand his angry silence.

“No, you don’t,” he growls.

“Yes, I do! I need you to talk to me, tell me what the hell happened down there!” Carl waves his hands toward the window and Negan clenches his fists by his sides.

“Fucking hell, Carl! You always have to push and push! I told you to stay in my fucking room—multiple times—and what the fuck did you do? You didn’t listen, as usual! Why is it so damn hard for you to listen to what I say?” he yells and slams his fist against the side of his dresser, cracking the wood.

“Because, Negan, you don’t just get to tell me what to do all the time!” Carl yells back.

“That isn’t what I’m doing. I was trying to keep you away from shit like what just happened. I already warned you that they aren’t a good group of people, yet you prance out there with Merle and then volunteer yourself to play that fucking game! What the fuck was that?” The deep veins in Negan’s neck are straining against his skin so tightly that Carl fears they may break through.

“I didn’t know what the game was!”

“You knew I didn’t want you to play, and the only reason you wanted to play was because Sherry’s name was mentioned because of this crazy obsession you have with her!”

“Excuse me? Crazy obsession? Maybe I don’t like the fact that my boyfriend used to sleep with her!” Carl’s cheeks flame. His jealousy and dislike towards Sherry are a little crazy but Negan just choked a guy for almost kissing him.

“Well, sorry to break it to you, but if you’re going to have a problem with everyone that I slept with, you may want to transfer schools,” Negan exclaims and Carl’s mouth falls open. “You didn’t have a problem with the girls downstairs,” he adds and Carl’s heart goes frantic.

“What girls?” Carl’s breath catches. “Those three that were playing with us?”

“Yeah, and just about every other girl in this place.” Negan’s voice holds no emotion as he glares at him.

Carl tries to come up with something to say but he’s at a loss for words. The fact that Negan has slept with all three of those girls and basically the entire population at GSU makes him nauseous—and the worst part is how he just threw it in his face. He must look like such a fool hanging around Negan when everyone else figures he’s just one of the many people he’s slept with. He knew he would be pissed-off, but this is too far, even for Negan. Carl feels like they have gone back in time to when he first met him and he would purposely make him anger on an almost daily basis.

“What? Surprised? You shouldn’t be,” Negan says.

“No.” And Carl’s not surprised, not one bit. He’s hurt. Not about Negan’s past, just the way Negan treats him out of anger. Negan said it that way just to hurt him. Carl blinks rapidly to stop the angry tears from coming, but when it doesn’t work he turns away and wipes his eyes.

“Just go,” Negan says and walks toward the door.

“What?” Carl asks and turns to face him.

“Just go, Carl.”

“Go where?”

Negan doesn’t even look at him. “Back to your room . . . I don’t know . . . but you can’t stay here.”

This is not at all what Carl thought would happen. The pain in his chest grows with every second of silence that passes between them. Part of him wants to beg Negan to let him stay, and to argue with him until Negan tells him why he reacted the way he did downstairs, but a bigger part of Carl is embarrassed and hurt by his cool dismissal. Carl grabs his bag off the bed and slings it over his shoulder. When he reaches the door, he looks back at Negan and hopes that he will apologize or change his mind, but Negan turns to the window and completely ignores him. Carl has no idea how he will get back to the dorms, since Negan drove him here and he had every intention of staying the night with him. Carl doesn't remember the last time he stayed alone in his room, and the thought unnerves him. The drive to this house seems like days ago, instead of hours.

When Carl reaches the bottom of the stairs, someone tugs at the back of his sweatshirt, and he holds his breath as he turns around, silently praying that it isn’t Merle or Dave.

It’s Negan. “Come back upstairs,” he says, his voice desperate and his eyes red.

“Why? I thought you wanted me to leave.” Carl stares at the wall behind him.

He sighs and grabs the bag from Carl’s shoulder and walks back up the stairs. Carl thinks about just letting him have the bag and leaving anyway, but his stubborn attitude is what got him in this situation in the first place.

Carl huffs and follows him back to this room. When the door closes he turns around and backs Carl up against the door.

Negan looks into his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He pushes his hips against Carl’s and puts one of his arms against the door close to Carl’s head so Carl can't move.

“Me, too,” Carl whispers.

“I just . . . I lose my temper sometimes. I didn’t really sleep with those girls. Well, not all three of them.”

Carl feels a little relieved but not completely.

“My first instinct when I get angry is to come back even harder, to hurt the other person as much as I can. But I don’t want you to leave, and I’m sorry for scaring you by beating the shit out of Dave. I’m trying to change, change for you . . . to be what you deserve, but it’s hard for me. Especially when you do things to purposely piss me off,” he says. He brings his hand to Carl’s cheek and wipes the drying tears left there.

“I wasn’t scared of you,” Carl says.

“Why not? It seemed like you were when I grabbed the towel.”

“No, well, I was a little when you grabbed the towel, because of the stain on the floor and you surprised me when you snatched it. But really I was more afraid for you when you were fighting Dave.”

“Afraid for me?” Negan puffs his shoulders up a little and brags, “He didn’t get a hit on me.”

Carl rolls his eyes. “I meant that you would end up killing him or something. You could get in a lot of trouble for assaulting him,” he explains.  
He sounds just like his father…

Negan chuckles. “Let me get this straight: you were worried about the legal repercussions of our fight?”

“Stop laughing. I’m still mad at you,” Carl tells him and crosses his arms. He’s not exactly sure what he is upset about except Negan telling him to leave.

“I am still pissed at you, too, but you’re very amusing.” Negan presses his forehead against his. “You drive me crazy,” he says.

“I know.”

“You never listen to me and you always fight me on everything. You’re stubborn and borderline intolerable.”

“I know,” Carl repeats.

“You provoke me and cause me a shitload of unnecessary stress, not to mention you almost made out with Dave right in front of me.” Negan’s lips touch Carl’s neck and Carl shivers.

“You say the most annoying things and you act like a child when you’re mad.” Despite the insults Negan is throwing at Carl—complaints about things that, deep down, Carl thinks Negan really enjoys about him—Carl’s stomach is fluttering as Negan kisses his skin and continues his light verbal assault. Negan pushes his hips against his again, more forcefully this time.

“But all that being said . . . I also happen to be vigorously in love with you,” Negan says and sucks harshly on sensitive skin below Carl’s ear.

Carl pushes his hands through his hair, making him groan, and Negan puts both of his hands on Carl's waist, pulling Carl to him. Carl knows there are more things to be said, more problems to be solved, but right now all he wants is to get lost in Negan and forget about tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol negan is crazy as hell.  
> thanks for all the comments and kudos!  
> what do you guys think negan is hiding?


	14. FOURTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> next chapter we find out with Negan is hiding. DUN DUN DUNNNN.  
> this story only has a few (very long) chapters left.   
> Thanks for kudos and comments.

  
In what feels like a desperate attempt to be closer to Carl as they kiss, Negan moves a hand to the back of Carl’s neck. Carl can sense all of his anger and frustration being transferred into lust and affection—his mouth is hungry and his kisses sloppy as Negan walks backward with their lips still attached. Negan guides Carl with one hand on Carl’s hip and the other behind Carl’s head, but Carl trips over his feet and stumbles just as Negan legs reach the end of his bed, causing both of them to fall back onto it. In an attempt to wrestle control from him, Carl straddles his torso and pulls his sweatshirt and tank top over his head at the same time, leaving shirtless. His eyes widen and he tries to pull Carl down to kiss him, but Carl has other plans.

  
Negan’s hands are warm as he reaches up and runs his fingers down Carl’s chest, ghosting over his nipples. Grabbing Negan’s wrists, Carl removes his hands from his skin and shakes his head. Negan’s head tilts in confusion before Carl climbs down his body and unbuttons Negan’s pants. Negan helps him tug them down to his knees along with his boxers. Carl’s fingers immediately grip his length—Negan gasps, and when Carl looks at his face Negan’s eyes are closed. Carl pumps slowly before dipping down and bravely taking him into his mouth. Carl tries to remember his instructions from last time and repeat the things that he knows Negan liked.

“Fuck! Carl,” Negan pants and wraps his hands into Carl’s hair. This is the longest he has been silent during any sexual experience they have shared, and Carl realizes much to his own amusement that he missed his dirty words.

Carl moves his body while continuing to please him and end up between his knees.

Negan sits up and watches him. “You look so sexy like this, with that mouth of yours wrapped around me,” he says and grips Carl’s hair harder.

Carl feels his own cock becoming hard and moves his head faster, wanting to hear Negan moan his name again. Carl’s tongue laps around the tip of him and he lifts his hips slightly off the bed, pushing himself down his throat. Carl’s eyes begin to water and he can barely breathe, but hearing his name fall from Negan’s lips over and over again makes it that much better. Seconds later, Negan removes his hands from Carl’s hair and cups Carl’s face, stopping him from moving further. The metallic scent of his bloody knuckles hits Carl’s nose, but he ignores the reflex to pull away.

“I’m going to come . . .” Negan tells him. “So if there is anything else you . . . you know, want to do before then, you should stop blowing me.”

Carl doesn't want to speak, to give away how desperate he is to have him make love to him, so Carl simply stands up and slide his jeans down his legs and steps out of them. When Carl begins to remove his boxers Negan’s hand reaches out and stops him.

“I want you to leave these on . . . for now,” he coos. Carl nods and gulps, anticipation consuming him. “Come here.” He gestures and pulls his shirt over his head. Scooting to the edge of the bed, Negan pulls Carl onto him.

Their feverish exchange in the beginning has slowed and the angry tension between them has decreased. Negan’s chest is flushed and his eyes are wild. The feeling of sitting on his lap while he is completely naked and ready—and Carl only dressed in boxers—is exquisite. Negan presses the small of Carl’s back, the length of his one outstretched hand there holding Carl in place as his lips meet his once again.

“I love you,” Negan whispers into Carl’s mouth as his fingers move into Carl’s boxers. “I . . . love you . . .”

Carl gasps at the immediate pleasure of the intrusion as Negan fingers him. He moves his fingers slowly, too slowly, and Carl instinctively rocks back and forth to create a faster pace.

“That’s it, baby . . . fuck . . . You’re always so ready for me,” Negan groans and Carl continues to rock against his hand, creating friction on his cock. Carl’s breathing and moans intensify—it still surprises him how quickly his body responds to Negan. He knows every little thing to do and say.

“You're going to listen to me from now on. Am I right?” Negan says against Carl’s neck, gently biting the skin.

What?

“Tell me you will listen to me or I won’t let you come.”

He can’t be serious. “Negan . . .” Carl begs and tries to move faster, but Negan stops him.

“Okay . . . Okay . . . just please,” Carl begs and Negan smirks. Carl wants to punch him for doing this right now. Negan is using Carl’s most vulnerable time against him but he can’t find his anger through his need for him. Carl’s all too aware of his bare skin against his, only his thin boxers between them.

“Please,” Carl repeats and Negan nods.

“Good boy,” Negan says into ear and guides Carl’s hips to move again as his fingers pump in and out.

Carl feels himself inching closer and closer to the edge in no time at all. Negan whispers filthy things in his ear, the foreign words urging him on in a way that Carl can’t describe. They are completely filthy but welcome, and Carl grips on to Negan’s arms to keep himself from falling off the bed as he comes undone under his touch.

“Open your eyes. I want to watch what only I can do to you,” Negan instructs and Carl does his best to keep them open as his orgasm overtakes him.

Afterward, Carl’s head falls onto Negan’s chest and Carl’s arms wrap under Negan’s arms, hugging him tight as Carl tries to catch his breath.

“I can’t believe you tried to . . .” Carl begins to scold him, but Negan silences him by running his tongue along Carl’s bottom lip. Carl’s breath comes out in spurts as he is still recovering from his high. Carl reaches his hand down in between them and grabs hold of him. Negan winces and pulls Carl’s lip between his, sucking lightly. Carl decides to take a page from the Negan Travis sex handbook and grips him harder.

“Apologize, and I will give you what you want,” Carl says as seductively as he possibly can into his ear.

“What?” Negan’s face is priceless.

“You heard me.” Carl keeps his face neutral and pumps him in one hand and slide his fingers over his wet boxer’s with the other.

Negan whimpers as Carl rubs Negan against him.

“I’m sorry,” Negan blurts, his cheeks a deep shade of red. “Just let me fuck you . . . please,” he begs and Carl laughs. His laughter is cut short by him reaching over to the nightstand and pulling out a small packet. Negan wastes no time putting the condom on and kissing Carl again.

“I don’t know if you are ready to do it this way, with you above me. If it’s too intense, tell me. Okay, baby?” And like that he’s back to the sweet and gentle Negan.

“Okay,” Carl answers. They pull his boxers off.

Negan lifts him up slightly and Carl feels the condom brush against him and then fullness as Negan lowers Carl onto him.

“Fuck,” Carl says and closes his eyes.

“Is it okay?”

“Yeah . . . just . . . d-different,” Carl stammers.

It hurts, not nearly as much as before, but the feeling is still unpleasant and foreign. Carl keeps his eyes closed and move his hips a little, trying to decrease the pressure.

“Good, different, or bad?” Negan’s voice is strained and the vein in his forehead is showing.

“Shh, stop talking,” Carl says and moves again.

Negan moans and apologizes, promising to give him a minute to adjust. Carl has no idea how much time passes before he moves his hips again. The discomfort eases dramatically the more Carl moves, and at some point Negan wraps his arms around his back, hugging Carl close to him as Negan moves to meet his hips. This way is much better, Negan holding him as they move together. One of Carl's hands rests on his chest, holding his weight as his legs start to tire. Carl ignores the burn of his muscles and continues to ride his body this way. He keeps his eyes open to watch Negan as a bead of sweat rolls down his forehead. Watching him like this, with his lower lip pulled between his teeth, his eyes so focused on Carl's face that Carl swears he can feel the burn from them on his skin, is overwhelming in the best way.

“You’re everything to me. I can’t lose you,” Negan says as Carl’s lips move over his neck and shoulder. His skin is salty and damp and perfect. “I’m close, baby, so fucking close. You’re doing so good, baby.” Negan groans and moves his hands up and down Carl’s back as he tries to pick up speed. Negan laces their fingers together and the intimacy of the gesture makes Carl weak. He loves his encouragement and Carl loves him.

Carl feels his stomach tightening as Negan grips the back of his neck with one hand. Negan continues to whisper how much Carl means to him as his body grows tense. Carl stares, completely consumed by his words and the way his thumb is brushing over the tip of his cock, bringing Carl to a quick and powerful release. Their moans intertwine along with their bodies as they finish. Negan practically falls back, lying on the bed, and takes Carl with him. Carl barely notices him discarding the condom as he comes back to reality.

“I’m glad you followed me down the stairs,” Carl finally says after a long but pleasant silence. With his head lying on Negan’s bare chest, he can hear his rapid heartbeat slowing.

“Me, too. I wasn’t going to, but I had to. I’m sorry for telling you to leave. I can be an asshole sometimes,” Negan says.

Carl lifts his head up and looks at him. “Sometimes?” Carl smiles.

Negan lifts one of his hands off Carl’s back and pokes him on the nose with his index finger, making him laugh. “You weren’t complaining five minutes ago,” Negan points out.

Carl shakes his head and lays it back down onto his clammy skin. His fingers trace the simple heart-shaped tattoo near his shoulder and Carl notices the goose bumps raise on his skin. It isn’t lost on him that the heart is colored in with solid black ink.

“That’s because you’re better at that stuff than you are at dating,” Carl teases.

“I won’t argue there.” Negan chuckles and moves Carl’s hair from his face. One of Carl’s favorite things that he does is when Negan caresses his cheek. His fingertips are rough, but they somehow feel like silk against Carl’s skin.

“What happened between you and Dave? I mean before tonight?” Carl asks. He probably shouldn’t, but he has to know.

“What? Who told you there was a problem between Dave and me?” Negan lifts Carl’s chin to look at him.

“Merle. He didn’t say what it was, though; he just said it was ‘coming for a while.’ What did he mean by that?”

“Just some bullshit thing that happened last year. It’s nothing for you to worry about. I promise,” Negan says, and smiles a smile that doesn’t extend to his eyes but Carl doesn't feel like pushing it.

Carl is just happy that they worked through their problem for once and that they are getting better at communicating with one another.

“You’re going to meet me after you leave TG's tomorrow, right? I don’t want anyone to take that apartment before us,” Negan says.

“We don’t have any furniture,” Carl reminds him.

“It comes furnished. But we can add things or change whatever we want after we move in.”

“How much is it?” Carl asks. He knows he doesn't want to hear the answer to that. He can only imagine how expensive it is if it comes already furnished.

“Don’t worry about that; all you need to worry about is how much the cable will be.” Negan smiles and kisses Carl’s forehead. “So what do you say? You’re still in, right?”

“And groceries,” Carl points out and Negan frowns. “But yes, I am still in.”

“Are you going to tell your father?”

“I don’t know. I will eventually, but I already know what he’s going to say. Maybe I should let him get used to the fact that we’re together first. We are so young and already moving in together, I don’t want to send him into a mental ward.” Carl lets out a laugh despite the slight pain in his chest. He wishes things could be simple with his father and Rick could be happy for him, but he knows that isn’t plausible. Carl can't even talk to Michonne because his father won't allow it.

“I’m sorry that this is happening between the two of you. I know it’s my fault, but I’m far too selfish to remove myself from the situation.”

“It’s not your fault. He is just . . . well, he is the way he is,” Carl says and kisses his chest.

“You need to get to sleep, baby; you have to be up in the morning and it’s almost midnight,” Negan says.

“Midnight? I thought it was much later,” Carl says and rolls off him and lies in front of him.

“Well, if you weren’t so tight, I would have lasted longer,” Negan says into his ear.

“Good night!” Carl groans in embarrassment.

Negan laughs and kisses the back of Carl’s neck before turning the light off.

~O~

The next morning, bright and early, Carl scrambles around Negan’s room, gathering his things to take a shower.

“I’m coming with you,” Negan groans, but Carl laughs.

“No, you’re not. You know it’s only six a.m., right? What happened to your seven-thirty rule?” Carl teases and grabs his bag.

“I'm going to walk you there.” Carl loves Negan’s raspy morning voice.

“Walk me where? To the bathroom?” Carl scoffs as Negan rolls out of bed. “I’m a big boy. I can walk myself down the hall.”

“You’re doing an amazing job at listening to me so far.” Negan rolls his eyes, but Carl sees the amusement in them.

“Fine, Daddy, walk me to the bathroom,” Carl whines playfully. He has no intention of listening to him, but Carl decides to humor Negan for the moment.

Negan raises his eyebrow and smirks. “Don’t call me that again, or I’ll have to take you back to bed.” He winks and Carl hurries out of the room before he's too tempted to stay.

Negan follows behind him and sits on the toilet while Carl showers. “You’re going to have to take my car,” Negan says, which utterly surprises Carl. “I’ll get a ride to campus to grab yours so I can go over to the apartment.”

Carl didn’t think about any of this last night, which further shocks him, since he usually plans everything out so well. “You’re going to let me drive your car?” Carl gapes.

“Yeah. However, if you wreck it don’t bother coming back,” Negan says.

Part of him knows Negan is somewhat serious. But Carl laughs and says, “I should be worried about you wrecking mine!”

Negan tries to open the curtain, but Carl pulls it closed again and hears Negan chuckle. “Just think, babe, after today you will be in your own shower every morning.” Negan’s voice carries over the water as Carl rinses the shampoo from my hair.

“I don’t think it will really hit me until we are actually there.”

“Wait until you see it; you will love it,” Negan says.

“Does anyone know that you are getting an apartment?” Carl asks. He already knows the answer.

“No, why would they need to know?”

“They don’t, I was just wondering.”

The faucet creaks as Carl shuts the water off. Negan holds a towel open for him as Carl steps out and wraps it around his soaked body.

“I know you well enough to know that you think I’m hiding the fact that we are moving in together from my friends,” Negan says.

He’s not wrong. “Well, it does seem a little odd that you’re moving out of here but no one knows.”

“That isn’t because of you—it’s because I don’t want to hear their shit about dropping out of the fraternity. I’ll tell them all—even Sherry—after we move in.” Negan smiles and wraps his arms around Carl’s shoulders.

“I want to be the one to tell Sherry.” Carl laughs and hugs him back.

“Deal.”

After multiple attempts to keep Negan’s hands off him as he gets ready, Negan hands him the keys to his car and Carl leaves. The moment he gets in the car his phone vibrates.

*Be careful. I love you, the text reads.

*I will. You be careful in my car :) I love you. xo*

*I can’t wait to see you again. Meet me at five. Your crap car will be fine.*

*You should watch what you say or I may accidently hit a parking median in yours.*

Carl smiles to himself as he sends his reply.

*Stop pestering me and go to work before I come down there and peel that suit off you.*

As appealing as that sounds, Carl puts his phone back onto the passenger seat and starts the car. The engine gently purrs to life, unlike the loud roar of his. For a classic car it drives much smoother than his; Negan really takes care of it. When Carl turns onto the freeway his phone rings.

“Jesus, you can’t go twenty minutes without me?” Carl laughs into the phone.

“Carl?” a female voice says. Lydia.

Carl pulls his phone away from his ear and looks at his screen to confirm his horror.

“Um . . . sorry, I thought . . .” He stammers.

“You thought it was him . . . I know,” she says. Her voice is sad and not at all hateful.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn't deny it.

“S’okay,” she says.

“So . . .” He is not sure what to say.

“I saw your father yesterday.”

“Oh.” The pain from Lydia’s sorrow-filled voice and the reminder of his father’s hatred for Negan and him causes his chest to ache.

“Yeah . . . he is pretty pissed at you.”

“I know . . . he threatened to stop helping me with college.”

“He will get over this, I know he will. He’s just hurt,” she says.

“He is hurt? You’re kidding me, right?” He scoffs. She can’t be defending him.

“No, no—I know he is going about it the wrong way, but he’s just angry that you are . . . you know with . . . him.” The disgust in her voice is evident.

“Well, it isn’t his place to tell me who to be with. Is that why you called me? To tell me that I shouldn’t be with him?”

“No, no—Carl, it’s not. I just wanted to make sure you are okay. This is the longest we have gone without talking since we were ten years old,” she says. He can picture the frown on her face.

“Oh . . . I’m sorry for snapping at you. I just have a lot going on right now and I thought you were calling to—”

“Just because we aren’t together anymore doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be there for you,” she says, and Carl’s heart aches. He does miss her; not his relationship with her, but she’s been such a huge part of his life since he was a child, it’s hard to let that go entirely. She was there for him through everything, and he hurt her, without even calling to explain or apologize. He feels terrible about how he left things with her, and tears well up in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for everything, Lydia,” he says softly and sighs.

“It’ll be okay,” she says back, equally softly. But then, as if needing to change the topic, she says, “So I heard you got an internship,” and their conversation continues until he arrives at TG’s.

When they get off the phone she promises to talk to his father about his behavior towards him, and he feels like a huge weight has been lifted from him. Of anyone, Lydia try to get Rick to calm down.

The rest of his day goes smoothly. He spends the entire day finishing his first editing and making notes for Mr. Blake. Negan and him text on and off to nail down the details on where to meet, and before Carl knows it the day is over.

When he arrives at the address Negan sent him, he’s surprised to find that it’s about halfway between campus and The Governor's. His drive would only be twenty minutes if he lived here, when he lives here. It still seems like such an abstract idea, Negan and him living together.

Carl doesn't see his car when he pulls into the parking lot, and when he tries to call Negan’s phone he gets his voicemail. What if he changed his mind? Negan would tell him, wouldn’t he?

Just as Carl starts to panic, Negan pulls his car into the lot and parks next to him. At least, it looks like his car, but it also looks different. The silver paint is no longer chipped, and overall it looks shiny and new.

“What did you do to my car?” Carl says when Negan climbs out.

“It’s nice to see you, too.” Negan smiles and kisses Carl’s cheek.

“Seriously, what did you do?” Carl crosses his arms.

“I got a paint job. Jesus. You could thank me.” Negan rolls his eyes.

Carl bites his tongue only because of where they are and what they are about to do. Besides, the paint job does look really good. He just don’t like the idea of Negan spending money on him, and paint jobs are not cheap.

“Thank you.” Carl smiles and laces his fingers through Negan’s.

“You’re welcome. Now let’s go inside.” Negan leads him through the parking lot. “You look good driving my car, especially in that suit. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all day. I wish you would have obliged my request that you send me naked pictures of yourself,” Negan says, and Carl elbows him. “Just saying. Would have made class much more interesting.”

“Oh, so you went to class,” Carl says, laughing.

Negan shrugs and opens the front door of the building for him. “Here we are.”

Carl smiles at his uncharacteristic gesture and walks inside. The lobby of the building isn’t what he expected at all. It is all white: white floors, clean white walls, white chairs, white couches, white rugs, white lamps on clear tables. It looks elegant, but very intimidating. A short, balding man in a suit greets them and shakes Negan’s hand. He seems nervous around them, or maybe just around Negan.

“You must be Carlton.” The stranger smiles. His teeth are as white as the bright walls.

“Carl,” Carl smiles and corrects him while Negan bites back a smile of his own.

“It’s nice to meet you. Shall we get to signing?”

“No, he wants to see it first. Why would we sign if he hasn’t even seen it?” Negan says in a flat tone.

The poor man gulps and nods. “Of course, let’s go up.” He gestures down the hallway.

“Be nice,” Carl whispers to Negan as the three of them walk to the elevator.

“Nope.” Negan smirks at Carl and squeezes his behind gently.

Carl glares at him, but Negan’s dimpled smile only grows. The man tells him about how great the view is and that this is one of the best and most diverse apartment buildings in the area. Carl nods along politely, and Negan stays quiet as they step off the elevator. Carl is taken aback by the contrast between the lobby and the hallway. It feels like they have stepped into a completely different building . . . even a different time period.

“Here it is,” the man says and opens the first door they come to. “There are only five apartments on this floor, so you will have a lot of privacy.” He gestures for them to enter, but looks away from Negan’s gaze. He is definitely afraid of Negan. Carl can’t say he blames him, but it is a little entertaining to watch.

Carl hears his own gasp as he takes in the sight before him. The main room’s floors are old, stained concrete, except for one large square of hardwood in the space that Carl assumes would be the living room. The walls are brick and beautiful. Damaged but perfect. The windows are large, and the furniture is old-fashioned but clean. If he could design the perfect space, this would be it. It’s somehow a throwback to another era, but completely modern.

Negan watches him intently as Carl looks around, going into the other rooms and letting Negan and the man trail behind. The kitchen is small and has multicolored tiles above the sink and countertop, adding an indie, fun look. Carl absolutely loves everything about this small apartment. The lobby downstairs had scared him, so he was expecting to hate the place. He thought it would be an overpriced, stuffy apartment, and he’s thrilled that it isn’t. The bathroom is small but big enough for them, and the bedroom is just as perfect as the rest of the place. Three walls are old red brick and the fourth is covered with a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. It has a ladder attached, and Carl can’t help but laugh because he always pictured himself having this exact apartment after he graduated from college. He just didn’t think it would come so soon.

“We could fill the shelves. I have a lot of graphic novels, comics and trophies,” Negan mumbles nervously.

“I . . . just . . .” Carl begins.

“You don’t like it, do you. I thought you would; it seemed perfect for you. Damn it!” Negan frowns and runs his fingers over his hair.

“No! I—”

“Let’s go, then, show us another one,” Negan snaps at the man.

“Negan! If you would let me finish, I was going to say that I love it,” Carl tells him.

The man looks just as relieved as Negan, whose frown turns into a massive smile. “Really?”

“Yes, I was afraid it was going to be some fancy, cold apartment, but this is just perfect,” Carl tells him and means it.

“I knew it! Well, I was getting nervous a second ago, but as soon as I checked this place out I thought of you. I pictured you there . . .” He points to the bench in the window. “Just sitting and reading a comic. That’s when I knew I wanted you to live here with me.”

Carl smiles and his stomach flutters at Negan saying that in front of someone else, even if it’s a random leasing agent.

“So we’re all ready to sign, then?” The man shifts uncomfortably.

Negan looks at him and Carl nods. He can’t believe they are really doing this. He ignores the small voice reminding him that this is too soon, that he’s too young, and he follows Negan back into the kitchen.

  
Negan signs his name on the bottom of what seems like an endless page before sliding the whole thing over to him. Carl grabs the pen and signs before he can start overthinking it again. He’s ready for this; they are ready for this. Yes, they are young and they haven’t known each other very long, but Carl knows that he loves Negan more than anything and Negan loves him. As long as that much is certain, the rest will fall into place.

“All right, here are your keys.” Robert, whose name Carl finally learned from all those pages, hands Negan and him each a set of keys, bids them farewell, and is on his way.

“Well . . . welcome home?” Negan says once they’re alone.

Carl laughs and steps closer to him so Negan can wrap his arms around him.

“I can’t believe we live here now. It still doesn’t seem real.” Carl’s eyes scan the living room.

“If someone had told me I would be living with you—let alone dating you—two months ago, I would have either laughed in their face or punched them . . . either one.” Negan smiles and takes Carl’s face between his hands.

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” Carl teases and puts hands on Negan’s sides. “It’s a relief, though, to have our own space. No more parties, no more roommates and community showers,” he says.

“Our own bed,” Negan adds with a wiggle of his eyes. “We will need to get a few things, dishes and such.”

Carl touches the back of his hand to Negan’s forehead. “Are you feeling okay?” Carl smiles. “You’re being awfully cooperative today.”

Negan brushes his hand aside, then gives the back of it a little kiss. “I just want to make sure you are pleased with everything here. I want you to feel at home . . . with me.”

“And what about you? Do you feel at home here?” Carl asks him.

“Surprisingly enough, yes,” Negan answers, nodding, and looks around the room.

“We should go get my stuff. I don’t have much but a few books and my clothes,” Carl says.

Negan waves his arms in the air as if he has performed some sort of magic trick. “Already done.”

“What?” Carl asks.

“I brought all of your belongings from your room; they are in your trunk,” Negan explains.

“How did you know I would sign? What if I hated the apartment?” Carl smiles. He does wish he had the chance to say goodbye to Noah and the room that he called home for three months, but he’ll see Noah again soon.

“Because if you wouldn’t have liked this one, I would have found one that you did,” Negan answers confidently.

“Okay . . . Well, what about your stuff?”

“We can get it tomorrow. I have clothes in my trunk.”

“What is with that, anyway?” Negan always has so many clothes in his car.

“I don’t know, really. I guess you just never know when you will need clothes.” Negan shrugs. “Let’s go to the store and get all the shit we need for the kitchen and some food,” he says.

“Okay.” Carl’s stomach has been full of butterflies since he stepped into the apartment. “Can I drive your car again?” He asks when they get down to the lobby.

“I don’t know . . .” Negan smiles.

“You painted my car without my permission. I think I have earned the privilege.” Carl holds out his hands and Negan rolls his eyes before dropping the keys into them.

“So you like my car, then? It drives nicely, doesn’t it?”

Carl gives him a coy look. “It’s okay.”

He lied; he loves the way it drives.

Their building could not be located in a better place; they’re close to multiple stores, coffee shops, and even a park. They end up going to Target, and soon the cart is full of dishes, pots and pans, cups, and other things Carl didn’t know they would need but seem useful. They save the groceries for another trip since they already have so much stuff. Carl volunteers to go grocery shopping after his internship tomorrow if Negan makes him a list of things he likes to eat. The best thing so far about living together is all the small details about Negan that Carl would have otherwise never known. Negan’s so stingy with information, it’s nice to get some of out him without a fight. Even though they spend almost every night together, by just buying things for their place, Carl’s finding out things that he would have never known. Like: Negan likes cereal with no milk; even the idea of mismatching cups drives him insane; he uses two different types of toothpaste, one in the morning and one at night, and he doesn’t know why, he just does; and he would rather mop the floor a hundred times before having to load a dishwasher. They agree that Carl will always do the dishes as long as Negan mops the floor.

They bicker back and forth in front of the cashier when it comes time to pay. Carl knows Negan had to put a deposit down for the apartment, so Carl wants to cover their Target haul. But Negan refuses to let him pay for anything except cable and groceries. At first, Negan offered to let Carl pay for the electricity, which Negan declined to tell Carl was already included in the rent until he found the proof on the lease. The lease. Carl has a lease, with a man that he’s moving in with his freshman year of college. That’s not crazy, right?

Negan glares at the woman when she takes Carl’s debit card and he gives her props because she swipes his card without even acknowledging Negan’s attitude. Carl wants to laugh in victory, but Negan is already irritated and Carl doesn't want the night to be ruined.

Negan sulks until they get back to the apartment, and Carl stays quiet because he finds it amusing. “We might have to make two trips down here to get all the stuff,” Carl tells him.

“That’s another thing: I would rather carry one hundred bags than make two trips,” Negan says and finally smiles.

They still end up having to take two trips because the dishes are just too heavy. Negan’s irritation grows, but so does Carl’s humor.

They put all the dishes away into the cabinets and Negan orders a pizza. The polite person in him can’t help but offer to pay for it, which earns him a glare and a middle finger. Carl laughs and puts all the trash into the box the dishes came in. They weren’t joking when they said the apartment came furnished—it has everything we could need, a trash can, even a shower curtain.

“The pizza will be here in thirty minutes. I’m going to go down and get your stuff,” Negan says.

“I’ll come, too,” Carl says and follows him out.

Negan has put Carl’s things into two boxes and a trash bag, which makes Carl cringe but he stays quiet. Grabbing a handful of T-shirts and a pair of jeans out of his trunk, Negan shoves them into the trash bag with Carl’s clothes.

“Good thing we have an iron,” Carl finally says. When he looks into Negan’s trunk, something catches his eye. “You never got rid of those sheets?” He asks.

“Oh . . . yeah. No, I was going to, but I forgot,” Negan says nervously and looks away.

“Okay . . .” Carl feels a little uneasy about Negan’s reaction. What is that all about?

They haul a load of stuff up the stairs, and right when they reach the top, the pizza guy rings our bell. Negan goes back down to meet him, and when he comes back up the aroma coming from the box is heavenly. Carl didn’t realize how hungry he’d gotten.

They eat at the table, and it’s strange but nice to be eating dinner with Negan in their place. They’re quiet as they devour the delicious pizza, but it’s the good kind of silence. The kind that tells him they’re home.

“I love you,” Negan says as Carl puts their plates into the dishwasher.

Carl turns and responds, “I love you,” just as his phone vibrates loudly on the wood table. Negan looks over and taps the screen. “Who is it?” Carl asks him.

“Lydia?” Negan says as both a declaration and a question at the same time.

“Oh.” Carl knows this isn’t going to go well.

“She says it was ‘nice talking to you today’?” Negan’s jaw clenches.

Carl walks back over and grabs the phone, practically wrestling it out of Negan’s grip. Carl could have sworn Negan was going to crush it in his hand.

“Yeah, she called me today,” Carl tells him with false confidence. Carl was going to mention it to him. He just haven’t found the right time.

“And?” Negan raises his eyebrow.

“She was just telling me that she saw my father and she was just seeing how I’m doing.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know? Just to check on me, I guess.” Carl shrugs and sits down in the chair next to him at the table.

“She doesn’t need to be checking on you,” Negan growls.

“It’s not that big a deal, Negan. I’ve known her half my life.”

Negan’s eyes grow colder. “I don’t give a shit.”

“You’re being ridiculous. We just moved in together and you’re worried about Lydia calling me?” Carl scoffs.

“You have no reason to be talking to her; she probably thinks you want her back since you answered the call.” Negan runs his hands through his hair.

“No, she doesn’t. She knows that I’m with you.” Carl tries his best to fight his growing temper.

Negan gestures wildly at Carl’s phone. “Then call her right now and tell her not to call you again.”

“What? No! I’m not doing that. Lydia hasn’t done anything wrong, I have already hurt her enough—we both have—so, no. I will not say that to her. There is no harm in me being friends with her.”

“Yes there is,” Negan says, his voice rising. “She thinks she is better than me, and she will try to take you from me! I’m not stupid, Carl. Your father wants you with her too—I won’t let her try to take what is mine!”

Carl steps back and looks at him with wide eyes. “Would you listen to yourself? You sound like a lunatic! I’m not going to be hateful to her just because you feel like you have some insane claim on me!” Carl storms out of the kitchen.

“Don’t walk away from me!” Negan booms, following Carl into the living room.

Leave it to Negan to start a fight with him after the amazing day they have had. But Carl is holding his ground on this. “Then stop acting like you own me. I will try to compromise and make an effort to listen to you more than I do now, but not when it comes to Lydia. I would immediately stop talking to her if she tried to make a move or say anything inappropriate, but she didn’t. Besides, you obviously need to just trust me.”

Negan stares at him, and Carl wonders if Negan’s energy is dissipating when at last he simply says, “I don’t like her.”

“Okay, I get that, but you have to be reasonable. She is not plotting to take me away from you; she isn’t like that. This is the first time she has even tried to contact me since I ended things with her.”

“And the last!” Negan snaps. Carl rolls his eyes and heads into the small bathroom. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m going to take a shower, and when I get out I hope you’re done acting like a child,” Carl says. He’s proud of the way he is standing up to Negan, but Carl can’t help but feel bad for him. Carl knows Negan is just afraid to lose him to Lydia; Negan has this deep jealousy because of the way Lydia and him “look” together. On paper Lydia is better for him, and Negan knows that, but Carl doesn't love Lydia, he loves Negan.

Negan follows him into the bathroom, but when Carl starts to undress Negan turns and leaves, slamming the bathroom door on his way out. Carl takes a quick shower and when he gets out Negan is lying across the bed in just his boxers. Carl stays quiet as he opens the drawers to find pajamas.

“You’re not going to wear my shirt?” Negan’s voice is low.

“I . . .” Carl notices that he folded it and put it on the table next to the bed. “Thanks.” He pulls it over his head. The familiar minty scent almost makes him forget that he’s supposed to be mad at Negan. But when Carl looks over at Negan and his dark mood, Carl remembers all too well. “Well, this was a great night,” Carl huffs and take his towel back to the bathroom.

“Come here,” Negan says when Carl returns.

Hesitantly, Carl walks over to him and he sits up at the end of the bed, pulling Carl to stand between his legs.

“I’m sorry.” Negan looks up at him.

“For?”

“Acting like a caveman,” Negan says, and Carl can’t help but laugh. “And for ruining our first night here together,” he adds.

“Thank you. We have to discuss these things instead of you blowing up at me.” Carl twirls the hair at the nape of his neck in between his fingers.

“I know.” Negan half-smiles. “Can we discuss you not talking to her anymore?”

“Not tonight,” Carl says with a sigh. He will have to find a middle ground with him, but Carl can't completely giving up his right to talk to someone he’s known half his life.

“Look at us working our problems out.” Negan chuckles ruefully.

“I hope our neighbors won’t miss their quiet evenings.”

“Oh, they wouldn’t have gotten any quiet anyway.” Negan’s smile shows his dimples to full fire-igniting effect, but Carl ignores his perverted remark.

“I really didn’t mean to ruin the night,” Negan says again.

“I know. It’s not ruined. It’s only eight.” Carl smiles.

“I wanted to be the one to take that suit off you,” Negan states, his eyes darkening.

“I could always put it back on,” Carl says in what is an attempt to be sexy. Without a word he stands up and lifts Carl over his shoulder. Carl squeals and tries to kick his legs at Negan. “What are you doing!” He screams.

“Going to get that suit.” Negan laughs and carries Carl over to the laundry hamper.

~O~

“Too bad we didn’t make it to the part about me removing the suit,” Negan whispers into Carl’s ear as Negan pushes him farther onto the bed. As soon as Carl slides his T-shirt off over his head, Negan practically tackled him onto their bed and slid the condom on faster than Carl thought possible.

“Mmm . . .” is the only word Carl can manage to form as Negan slides in and out of him. This is the first time they are making love that there is no pain, only pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Negan groans and rocks his hips against Carl’s. The feeling is indescribable. His lean body fits perfectly between Carl’s legs, and his hot skin feels heavenly against his. Carl considers responding, to urge him with dirty talk the way that he does him, but Carl is lost in him and the pleasure coursing through him as Negan continues his tender assault.

Carl grips on to his back, his nails rake down Negan skin, and Negan’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Carl loves to see him this way, so out of control, so primal. Negan lifts Carl’s thigh to wraps around his waist, bringing their bodies even closer. Watching him pushes Carl to the limit; his toes curl and his leg tightens around Negan’s back as Carl moans his name repeatedly.

“That’s it, baby . . . come for me. Show me how good . . . fuck . . . how good I make you f-feel,” Negan stutters, and Carl feels Negan twitch inside him. Though Negan finishes a few seconds before him, Negan’s perfect movements continue until Carl comes, turning into a pool of boneless mush and he is spent. Carl’s body is completely relaxed and Negan collapses on top of him. They lie there in silence just enjoying the feeling of being so close to each other, and within minutes soft snores fall from Negan’s lips.

~O~

The days pass by quickly. Having freedom for the first time in your life will do that. It’s still foreign to be in his own place with his own shower, to make his own coffee in his own kitchen. Sharing all of this with Negan only makes it that much better. Carl decides he really loves this having his own space.

Negan refuses to wake up, sitting up only long enough to kiss him goodbye. Carl wonders how he manages to work and do all of his schoolwork when Carl has yet to see him do either. In a brave move, Carl grabs Negan’s car keys and takes his car to TG’s. If Negan is skipping classes, he surely won’t miss it, right? Carl forgets how much closer they live to Vance now, and he makes a mental note to remember to thank Negan for his foresight, even though he has to drive farther to campus now. That Carl doesn't have to drive forty minutes makes his day much better.

When he reaches the top floor Andrea is standing at the conference room table placing donuts in neat rows.

“Whoa, Carl! Look at you!” She whistles playfully. Carl flushes and she laughs. “Navy is definitely your color.” She looks him up and down again. Carl feels slightly self-conscious, but her smile soothes his thoughts. He has been feeling much more confident and sexy lately, thanks to Negan.

“Thanks, Andrea.” He smiles back and grabs a donut and a cup of coffee. The phone rings on her desk and she rushes over to answer it.

When he gets to his office, he has an email from Mr. Blake praising his notes on the first comic and saying that even though that one was a pass for the company, he looks forward to Carl’s evaluation of the next one. Carl dives right in and gets to work.

“Anything good?” Negan’s voice startles him out of his work. Carl looks up, slightly shocked, and Negan smiles. “Must be, since you didn’t seem to notice my arrival.”

He looks incredible. His hair is pushed back as always, but the sides are flatter than usual, and he has a plain white V-neck on. The shirt is tighter than usual, making his tattoos even more visible underneath. He is so incredibly hot—and all his.

“So, how was the drive?” Negan asks with a smirk.

“Really nice.” Carl laughs.

“So you think you can just take my car without my permission?” Negan’s voice is low and Carl can’t tell if he is joking.

“I . . . well . . .” Carl stammers.

Negan doesn’t say anything, just walks over behind Carl’s desk and pulls his chair out. His eyes move from Car’s shoes up to his face and he pulls him to stand up. “You look so sexy today,” Negan says against his neck before gently pressing his lips against Carl’s skin.

Carl shivers. “Why... why are you here?”

“You aren’t happy to see me?” Negan smiles and lifts him onto the desk.

Oh. “Yeah, of course I am,” Carl tells him. He’s always happy to see him.

“I may have to consider coming back here after all, just so I can do this every day,” Negan says and puts his hands on Carl’s thighs.

“Someone could come in here.” Carl tries to be stern, but his tone is shaky.

“Nope—Blake is at a meeting for the rest of the afternoon and Andrea has agreed to call if she needs you.”

The idea of Negan hinting to Andrea what they could be doing in here makes Carl’s cheeks heat, but his body take over. He glances at the door.

“Locked,” Negan answers cockily.

Without thinking, Carl pulls Negan closer and immediately puts his hand over Negan’s crotch, palming him through his jeans. Negan groans and unbuttons his jeans, yanking them down along with his boxers.

“This is going to be faster than usual, okay, baby?” Negan says and yanks Carl’s pants and boxers off in one go. Shit.

Carl nods with anticipation and licks his lips. Negan chuckles and pulls Carl by his hips to the edge of the desk. Carl’s lips attack Negan’s neck and Carl hears the foil packet being ripped open.

“Look at you—three months ago you would blush at the mention of sex, and now here you are letting me fuck you on your desk,” Negan whispers and slams into him.

Negan clamps his hand over Carl’s mouth and takes his bottom lip between his teeth. Carl can’t believe he’s actually letting Negan have sex with him on a desk, at the place of his internship, with Andrea less than a hundred feet away. As much as he hates to admit it, the idea actually drives him crazy. In the best way.

“Are you going . . . to be . . . quiet . . .” Negan says in short spurts and moves even faster. Carl nods and pants, grabbing on to Negan’s biceps so Carl doesn't fall off the desk from his assault.

“You like it this way, don’t you? Fast and hard?” Negan grits his teeth. Carl gently bites down on his palm to keep quiet.

“Answer me or I’ll stop,” Negan threatens.

  
Uh.

Carl lowers his eyes at him and nods, too overwhelmed with sensation to actually speak.

“I knew you would,” Negan says, and flips Carl over so his stomach is on the desk.

Oh God. Negan thrusts back into him and moves slowly before wrapping Carl’s hair around his fist and pulling him up so Negan can kiss his neck. The tension grows in Carl’s stomach and Negan’s movements grow sloppier—and Carl knows they are both close. With his final thrust Negan kisses Carl’s shoulder before pulling out of him and helping Carl off the desk.

“That was—” Carl tries to say and Negan silences him by kissing his lips.

“Yeah, it was.” Negan finishes his thoughts before pulling his pants back up. Carl runs his fingers through his hair and pulling his pants and boxers up before looking at the clock. It’s almost three. The day has escaped him once again.

“You ready?” Negan asks.

“What? It’s only three.” Carl points to the clock.

“Phillip said you can leave early. I spoke to him an hour ago.”

“Negan! You can’t just ask him if I can leave early; this internship is important to me.”

“Babe, relax. He mentioned that he would be out all day and he was the one who brought up you leaving early.”

“I don’t want anyone to think I’m taking advantage of this opportunity.”

“No one thinks that. Your GPA and your work speak for themselves.”

“Wait . . . so then why didn’t you just call me and tell me I could come home?” Carl raises a brow at him.

“I have wanted to bend you over that desk since your first day here.” Negan gives him a smug smile and grabs Carl’s jacket for him.

Carl wants to tell him how crazy he is to come here just to have sex with him on the desk, but he can’t deny that he loved it. Looking at him in that T-shirt with those inked muscles, Carl could never deny him anything.

As they walk to their cars, he squints at the sun and says, “I was thinking we should go get whatever we are going to wear to that dreadful wedding.”

“Good idea,” Carl agrees. “But I’m driving your car back home and we can leave my car, then go.” He jumps into his car before Negan can protest. Negan just shakes his head and smiles.

After dropping Carl’s car off, they go to the mall. Negan whines and complains like a child the entire time and Carl literally have to coerce him with sexual bribes to get him to buy a tie. He ends up getting black dress pants, a black jacket, a white dress shirt, and a black tie. Simple, but perfect for him. He refuses to try everything on, so Carl hopes it all actually fits him. He would take any excuse not to go to the wedding, but Carl is not going to let that happen. Once they get him settled, it’s his turn.

“The white one,” Negan says and gestures to the simple white suit in Carl’s hand, the other option being a black one to match Negan. Since Charlotte mentioned that the color scheme was black and white, Carl figured he would stick to it. Negan seemed to really like the white shirt he wore yesterday, so he decides to listen to him. Much to his annoyance, before he realizes what he’s doing, Negan goes from “just carrying” his suit and shoes to paying for them. When Carl protests, the young girl at the register smiles and shrugs as if to say, “What do you expect me to do?”

“I have to do some work tonight, so I won’t be home for dinner,” Negan tells him as they walk out of the mall.

“Oh. I thought you worked from home.”

“I do, but I need to go to the library for a little bit,” Negan explains. “I won’t be gone too late.”

“I’ll just go grocery shopping while you are gone,” Carl tells him and Negan nods.

“Be careful and go before it gets dark,” Negan says.

Negan makes him a list of things he likes and leaves as soon as they get back to the apartment. Carl changes into jeans and a sweatshirt and walks to the grocery store down the street. When he gets back home, he puts everything away, catches up on some homework, and makes himself something to eat. He texts Negan but doesn't hear anything back, so he puts a plate of food in the microwave for Negan to heat up when he gets home and lies on the couch to watch television.

~O~

When Carl wakes up, it takes him a few moments to realize he is still on the couch.

“Negan?” Carl calls out, untangling himself from the blanket. He walks to the bedroom in the hopes Negan will be in there. But the room is empty. Where the hell is he?

He goes back to the living room and snatches his phone off the back of the couch. Still no messages from him—and it’s seven in the morning. He calls, but get his voicemail and hangs up. He storms around the kitchen and turns on the coffeepot before heading to the bathroom to take a shower. He’s lucky he woke up on time, because he didn’t actually set his alarm. He never forgets to set an alarm.

“Where are you?” Carl says aloud and steps into the shower.

As he combs his hair, he goes over the possible explanations for his absence. Last night he thought Negan just got caught up with his work, since he has a lot to make up for or maybe he ran into someone he knew and the time slipped away from him. But at the library? Those things close fairly early, and even bars close eventually. The most likely explanation is that he went to a party. Carl somehow knows this is what happened. A small part of him still worries that maybe he was in an accident; the thought alone hurts too bad to even entertain. But no matter what excuse or story Carl conjures up in his mind, he knows Negan is doing something he isn’t supposed to. Everything was good between them last night and then he goes and stays out all night?

In no mood to wear a suit, Carl puts on one of his old black pants and a soft black button-up shirt. Clouds cover the sky his entire drive, and by the time he gets to TG’s his mood has darkened to match them and he’s infuriated. Who the hell does Negan think he is to stay out all night without even telling him?

Andrea raises a brow at him when he walks past the donut table without grabbing one, but he gives her his best fake smile and walks to his office. His morning passes in a daze. He reads and rereads the same pages over and over without comprehending any of the words.

There is a knock on his door, and his heart stops. He desperately hopes it’s Negan, regardless of how pissed he is at him. Instead it’s Andrea.

“Do you want to go get lunch with me?” she asks sweetly.

Carl almost declines her offer, but sitting here obsessing over his boyfriend’s whereabouts is not helping him one bit.

He smiles. “Sure.”

They walk around the corner to a small cantina-style Mexican restaurant. By the time they get inside they're both shivering, and she asks to be seated close to a heater. The small table they are given is directly underneath a heater, and they both raise their hands in the air to warm up.

“This weather is unforgiving,” she says and prattles on about being cold and already missing summer.

“I almost forgot how cold the winter is,” Carl tells her plainly. The seasons have blended together, and he barely noticed fall slipping away.

“So . . . how are things with Mr. Bad Ass?” she asks with a laugh.

The server brings them chips and salsa, and his stomach growls. He’s not skipping his morning donut anymore.

“Well . . .” He debates whether to share his personal life with her. He doesn't have many friends. None, really, excluding Noah and Beth, whom he never sees anymore. Andrea is at least fifteen years older than him and maybe she has some good insight into the minds of men, something he certainly lacks in. He stares at the ceiling covered in strings of beer-bottle-shaped lights and take a deep breath.

“Well, I’m actually not sure how things are at the moment. Yesterday things were fine but then he stayed out last night. All night. It was our second night in the apartment and he just never came home,” he explains.

“Wait . . . wait . . . back up. Okay, so you two live together?” She gapes.

“Yeah . . . as of Tuesday.” He tries to smile.

“Okay, so then he just didn’t come home last night?”

“Nope. He said he had to do some work and go by the library, but then he didn’t come home.”

“And you don’t think he’s hurt or anything, right?”

“No, I really don’t.” He feels as if he would somehow know if Negan wasn’t okay, like they are tied together in some way that would immediately let him know if Negan was hurt.

“He hasn’t called?”

“Nope. Or texted.” Carl frowns.

“I would have his balls if I were you. This is unacceptable,” she proclaims.

The server stops by to say, “Your food will be out shortly,” and fills up his water. He’s a little thankful for the small interruption, to give him a chance to catch his breath after Andrea’s harsh words.

And then she goes on, and when Carl realizes she’s not judging him but sticking up for him, he feels better. “I mean it—you have to make it clear that he can’t behave this way; otherwise he will keep doing it. He needs to know from the start that you won’t put up with this shit. He is lucky to have you and he needs to get his shit together.”

Something about her pep talk gives him more confidence in his anger. Carl should be pissed. He should “have his balls,” as Andrea so subtly put it.

“How do I do that?” Carl asks and she laughs.

“Let him have it. Unless he has a damned good excuse, which I’m sure he is plotting right now, you let him have it the second he walks through that door. You deserve to be respected, and if he isn’t respecting you, then you need to either make him or kick him to the curb.”

“You make it sound so easy.” Carl laughs.

“Oh, it’s far from easy.” She laughs, then grows serious. “But it has to be done.”

The rest of their lunch is filled with stories of her college life and how she has had her fair share of terrible relationships. Her blond bob sways back and forth as she shakes her head during almost every story. Carl finds himself laughing so hard he has to wipe the corner of his eyes. The food is delicious and he’s glad he came out to lunch with her instead of sulking alone in his office.

On the way back to his office, Sophia spots him from near the restrooms and comes over, smiling. “Hello, Carl.”

“Hey, how are you?” He asks politely.

“I’m okay. It’s awfully cold out there,” she says and Carl nods. “You look handsome today,” she adds and looks away. He gets the feeling she didn’t mean to say that aloud. He smiles and thanks her before she heads into the bathroom, obviously embarrassed.

By the time he leaves, he has gotten literally no work done so he takes the comic home with him in hopes of making up for his lack of motivation today.

When he arrives back at the apartment, Negan’s car still isn’t in the lot. His anger returns, and he calls him and cusses him out on his voicemail, which surprisingly makes him feel a little better. He makes himself a quick dinner and gets his things ready for tomorrow.

He can’t believe it’s only two days until the wedding. What if he doesn’t come back before then? He will. Won’t he? He looks around the apartment. As charming as it is, it seems to have lost some of its glow in Negan’s absence.

Somehow he manages to get a good amount of work done and was putting everything away when the door opens. Negan stumbles through the living room and into the bedroom without saying a word. Carl hears him toss his boots onto the floor and curses at himself, most likely for falling over. He goes over what Andrea said at lunch today and gather all his thoughts, pushing his anger to its head.

“Where the hell were you?” Carl yells as he enters the room. Negan has his shirt off and is removing his pants.

“Good to see you, too,” Negan slurs.

“Are you drunk?” Carl gapes.

“Maybe,” Negan answers, and tosses his pants onto the floor.

Carl huffs and picks them up, throwing them at him. “We have a hamper for a reason.” Carl glares and Negan laughs.

He is laughing. Laughing at him.

“You have some nerve, Negan! You stay out all night and most of the day today without even calling me, and then you stumble in here drunk and make fun of me?” Carl screams.

“Stop yelling. I have a killer headache,” Negan groans and lies on the bed.

“Do you think this is funny? Is this some sort of game to you? If you aren’t going to take our relationship seriously, then why did you ask me to move in with you?”

“I don’t want to talk about this right now. You’re overreacting; now, come over here and let me make you happy.” Negan’s eyes are bloodshot from the amount of alcohol he consumed. He holds his arms out for him with a stupid drunken grin on his perfect face.

“No, Negan,” Carl says sternly. “I’m serious. You can’t just stay out all night and not even offer me an explanation.”

“Jesus. Would you chill the fuck out? You’re not my mother. Stop fighting with me and come here,” Negan repeats.

“Get out,” Carl snaps.

“Excuse me?” Negan sits up. Now Carl has his attention.

“You heard me, get out. I will not be that guy who sits at home all night waiting on his boyfriend to come home. I expected you to at least come up with a good excuse—but you haven’t even tried! I’m not going to give in this time, Negan. I always forgive you way too easily. Not this time. So either explain yourself or get the hell out.” Carl crosses his arms, proud of himself for not giving in to him.

“In case you forgot, I’m the one paying the bills here, so if anyone is going to leave, it will be you,” Negan says with a blank stare.

Carl glances down at Negan’s hands on his knees; his knuckles are yet again busted and covered in dried blood.

Carl’s mind is still trying to come up with a response when he asks, “Did you get in a fight again?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, Negan! It does matter. Is that what you were doing all night? Fighting people? You didn’t even have to work, did you? Or is that your job, beating up people?”

“What? No, that’s not my job. You know what my job is. I did work, then I got distracted,” Negan says and swipes his hand over his face.

“By?”

“Nothing. Jesus,” Negan groans. “You’re always on my fucking case.”

“I’m always on your case? What did you expect to happen when you stumbled in here after being gone all night and day! I need answers, Negan—I am sick of you not giving me them.” Negan ignores him and pulls a shirt over his head. “I was worried all day; you could have at least called me. I was a mess today while you were out drinking and doing God knows what. You’re messing with my internship, and that is not okay.”

“Your internship? You mean the one that Hershel got you?” Negan says with his foul mouth.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Just saying.” Negan shrugs.

How is this the same person who just two nights go was whispering how much he loves him into Carl’s ear while he thought he was asleep?

“I’m not even going to respond to that, because I know that’s what you want. You want a fight and I won’t give you one.” Carl grabs one of his T-shirts and stalks out of the room. Before he exits, he turns back to him. “But let me make this clear: if you don’t get your shit together—like now—I’m gone.”

Carl heads to the couch and lies down, grateful for another space to be where he isn’t. He allows a few tears to fall before wiping his face and picking up Negan’s old copy of a Spider-Man comic. No matter how bad he wants to go back in there and make him explain everything to him—where he was, who he was with, why he got into a fight, and with whom—Carl forces himself to stay on the couch because that will bother him much more.

Though probably not half as much as the level of control he has over parts of Carl’s life is bothering him.

~O~

He puts down his comic and checks the time on his phone. It’s a little after midnight, so he should try to force himself to go to sleep. Negan already tried to get him to come to bed earlier, saying he couldn’t sleep without him, but Carl stuck to his guns and ignored him until Negan left.

Carl is just about to drift into sleep when he hears Negan scream, “No!!” Carl jumps off the couch without thinking and rushes to their bedroom. Negan is thrashing in the thick blanket and covered in sweat.

“Negan, wake up,” Carl says gently and shake his shoulder, moving a soaked curl from his forehead with his other hand.

Negan’s eyes snap open—they are full of terror.

“It’s okay . . . shh . . . it was just a nightmare.” Carl does his best to soothe him. His fingers play in Negan’s hair and then brushes over his cheek. Negan is shaking as Carl climbs into bed behind him and wrap his arms around Negan’s waist. He feels Negan relax as Carl presses his face against Negan’s clammy skin.

“Please. Stay with me,” Negan begs. Carl sighs and stays quiet, tightening his grip around him. “Thank you,” he whispers, and within minutes he is asleep again.

~O~

The water doesn't seem to get hot enough to relax Carl’s tense muscles no matter how high he turns it up. He’s exhausted from the lack of sleep last night and the frustration that comes from dealing with Negan. Negan was asleep when he got into the shower, and Carl prays he stays that way until he leaves for his internship.

Unfortunately, his prayers go unanswered, and Negan is standing by the kitchen counter when Carl gets out of the bathroom.

“You look handsome today,” Negan says calmly.

Carl rolls his eyes and walks past him to grab a cup of coffee before he has to leave.

“So you aren’t speaking to me, then?”

“Not right now, no. I have to go to work and I don’t have the energy to do this with you,” Carl snaps.

“But you . . . you came to bed with me,” Negan pouts.

“Yeah, only because you were screaming and shaking. That doesn’t mean you are forgiven. I need an explanation for everything, all the secrets, all the fights—even the nightmares—or I’m done,” Carl surprises Negan and himself by saying.

Negan groans and runs his hands through his hair. “Carl . . . it’s not that simple.”

“Yeah, it is, actually. I trusted you enough to give up my relationship with my father and move in with you so soon; you should trust me enough to tell me what is going on.”

“You won’t understand. I know you won’t,” Negan says.

“Try me.”

“I . . . I can’t,” Negan stutters.

“Then I can’t be with you. I’m sorry, but I have given you a lot of chances and you keep—” Carl begins.

“Don’t say that. Don’t you dare try and leave me.” Negan’s tone is angry, but his eyes are hurt.

“Then give me some answers. What is it that you think I wouldn’t understand? About your nightmares?” Carl asks.

“Tell me you aren’t going to leave me,” Negan pleads.

Standing his ground with Negan is proving to be much harder than he imagined, especially when Negan looks so broken.

“I have to go. I’m already running late,” Carl tells him and goes to the bedroom to get dressed as quickly as he can. Part of him is happy that Negan doesn’t follow him, but part of him wishes he would.

Negan is still standing in the kitchen, shirtless, and gripping his coffee mug with white and busted knuckles when Carl leaves.

He mulls over everything Negan said this morning. What could he possibly not understand? He would never judge him for something that causes him to have nightmares. He hopes that is what Negan was talking about, but Carl can’t ignore the feeling that he’s missing something very obvious here.

He feels guilty and tense almost all day, but Andrea emails him the links to one too many funny YouTube videos for Carl’s sour mood to last. By lunch, he almost forgets the problem at home.

*I’m sorry for everything, please come home after work, Negan texts while Andrea and him eat from a muffin basket someone sent Mr. Blake.

“Is that him?” she asks.

“Yeah . . .” He tells her. “I stood up to him, but I feel terrible, for some reason. I know I’m right, but you should have seen him this morning.”

“Good. Hopefully he learns his lesson. Did he tell you where he was?” she asks.

“Nope. That’s the problem.” He groans and eats another muffin.

*Please answer me, Carl. I love you, Negan sends minutes later.

“Just answer the poor guy.” Andrea smiles and Carl nods.

*I will be home, he responds.

Why is it so hard for him to hold his ground with him? Mr. Blake lets everyone go a little after three, so he decides to stop by a barber and get his hair trimmed. He hopes Negan and him can work this out before the wedding, because the last thing he wants to do is take an already angry Negan to at a wedding.

By the time he gets home it’s almost six o’clock and he has multiple texts from Negan, which he has ignored. When he gets to their door he takes a deep breath to mentally prepare for what is to come. Either they will end up screaming at each other, which will lead to one of them leaving, or they will actually talk through it and work it out. Negan is pacing back and forth across the cement floor when Carl enters. Negan’s eyes shoot up to his figure in the doorway, and he looks relieved.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” Negan says and steps toward him.

“Where else would I go?” Carl says in response and walks past him into the bedroom.

“I . . . well, I made dinner for you,” Negan says.

He is totally unrecognizable right now. His hair is down across his forehead instead of pushed up and back like it normally is. He is wearing a gray hooded sweatshirt and black sweats and he seems nervous, worried, and almost . . . afraid?

“Oh. Why?” Carl can’t help but ask. He changes into sweats of his own, and Negan’s face falls farther when Carl doesn't put on the shirt of his that he has clearly laid on the dresser for him.

“Because I’m an asshole,” Negan answers.

“Yeah . . . you are,” Carl says and walks back into the kitchen. The meal looks much more appetizing than he thought it would, even though he’s not sure what it is; some sort of chicken pasta, he thinks.

“It’s chicken Florentine.” Negan answers his thoughts.

“Hmm.”

“You don’t have to . . .” Negan’s voice is small. This is such a different scene than usual, and for the first time since Carl has met him he feels like he has the upper hand.

“No, it looks good. I’m just surprised,” Carl tells him and takes a bite. It tastes even better than it looks.

“Your hair looks nice,” Negan says. Carl’s thoughts travel back to the last time he had a haircut and Negan was the only one to notice.

“I need answers,” Carl reminds him.

Negan lets out a hard breath. “I know, and I’m going to give them to you.”

Carl takes another bite to hide his satisfaction with himself for holding his ground with him.

“First, I want you to know that no one—I mean no one, except my mother and father—knows this,” Negan says and picks at the scabs on his knuckles.

Carl nods and takes another bite.

“Okay, well, here goes,” Negan says nervously before continuing. “One night, when I was around seven, my father was out at the bar across the street from our home. He went there almost every night and everyone knew him there, which is why it was a terrible idea for him to piss anyone off there. This night, he did just that. He started a fight with some soldiers who were just as plastered as him and he ended up smashing a beer bottle over one of their heads.”

Carl has no idea where this is going, but he knows it won’t be pleasant.

“Keep eating, please,” Negan begs and Carl nods and tries not to stare at him as he continues.

“He left the bar, and they came across the road to our house, to pay him back for smashing the guy’s face, I guess. The problem was that he didn’t come home—they just thought he did, and my mom was asleep on the couch, waiting up for my dad.” Negan’s hazel eyes meet his. “Sort of how you were last night.”

“Negan,” Carl whispers and grabs his hand across the table.

“So when they found my mom first,” Negan trails off and stares at the wall for what feels like forever. “When I heard her screaming, I came downstairs and tried to get them off her. Her nightgown was ripped open and she just kept screaming for me to go. She was trying to keep me from seeing what they were doing to her, but I couldn’t just leave, you know?”

When Negan blinks back a tear, Carl’s heart breaks for the seven-year-old boy who had to watch those horrendous things happen to his mother. Carl climbs onto his lap on the chair and puts his face against his neck.

“Long story short, I tried to fight them off, but it didn’t do any good. By the time my father stumbled through the door, I had put an entire box of Band-Aids all over her body to try to . . . I don’t know . . . fix her or something. How stupid is that?” Negan asks into his hair.

Carl looks up at him and Negan frowns. “Don’t cry...” Negan whispers, but Carl can’t help it. He has never imagined his nightmares were from something so terrible.

“I’m sorry I made you tell me,” Carl sobs.

“No, baby, it’s okay. It actually felt good to tell someone,” Negan assures him. “As good as it can feel.”

Negan pets his hair and winds part of it around his finger, lost in thought. “After that, I would only sleep downstairs on the couch, so if someone came in . . . they would get to me first. Then the nightmares came and they just kind of stuck. I went to a few therapists once my father left and Hershel adopted me, but nothing seemed to help, until you.” Negan gives him a weak smile. “I’m sorry I was out all night. I don’t want to be that guy. I don’t want to be him,” Negan says and hugs him tighter.

Now that Carl has a few more pieces of the puzzle that is Negan, he can understand him more. Negan is the way he is because of his father, because of the drinking, the negligence, and the terrible night that his father provoked an attack against his wife and son, and then wasn’t there to protect them. Carl didn’t get all the answers he wanted, but he got much more than he ever expected.

“I won’t do it again . . . I swear . . . Just please tell me you won’t leave me . . .” Negan mutters.

Every ounce of anger and entitlement Carl felt has evaporated. “I won’t leave you, Negan. I won’t leave you.” And because Negan looks at him like he needs to hear it, Carl says it a few more times.

“I love you, Carl, more than anything,” Negan says and wipes Carl’s tears.

~O~

They haven’t moved from their spot in the chair for at least thirty minutes, when finally Negan lifts his head from Carl’s chest and says, “Can I eat now?”

“Yes.” Carl gives him a weak smile and starts to climb off his lap, but he pulls him back.

“I didn’t say for you to move. Just slide my plate over.” Negan smiles.

Carl slides his plate over and reaches for his across the small table. He’s still reeling from this new information and now he feels a little uneasy about going to the wedding in the morning.

Sensing Negan doesn’t want to discuss his confession further, Carl takes a bite off his plate and says, “You’re a much better cook than I expected. Having shown your hand, I expect you’ll cook for me more often.”

“We will see,” Negan says with his mouth full and they eat the rest of the meal in a comfortable silence.

Later, when Carl is loading the dishwasher, Negan walks up behind him and asks, “Are you still mad?”

“Not exactly,” Carl tells him. “I’m still not happy about you being out all night, and I do want to know who you fought, and why.” He opens his mouth to speak, but Carl stops him. “But not tonight.” He doesn't think either of them can handle any more tonight.

“Okay,” Negan says softly. Worry flashes in his eyes but Carl chooses to let it go.

“Oh, and I didn’t appreciate you throwing my internship in my face, either. That really hurt my feelings.”

“I know. That’s why I said it,” Negan answers, a little too honestly.

“I know. That’s exactly why I don’t like it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do it again, okay?” Carl tells him and Negan nods. “I’m exhausted,” Carl groans in a small attempt to change the subject.

“Me, too; let’s lie down for the rest of the evening. I got the cable turned on.”

“I was supposed to be doing that.” Carl scowls at him.

Negan rolls his eyes and sits next to him on the bed. “You can just give me the money for it . . .”

Carl stares at the wall. “What time are we leaving here tomorrow for the wedding?”

“Whenever we feel like it.”

“It starts at three, so I think we should be there by two,” Carl says.

“An hour early?” Negan whines and Carl nods. “I don’t know why you insist—” Negan says but is cut off by Carl’s phone ringing.

The look on Negan’s face as he leans over and grabs it tells him immediately who it is. “Why is she calling?” he huffs.

“I don’t know, Negan, but I think I should answer.” Carl grabs the phone from his hand.

“Lydia?” His voice is soft and shaky as Negan’s glower burns a hole through the apartment.

  
“Hey, Carl, I’m sorry to call you on a Friday night but . . . well . . .” She sounds panicked.

“What?” Carl pushes, since she always takes longer than necessary to explain stressful situations.

When Carl looks over to Negan he mouths, “Speaker.”

Carl gives him an are-you-kidding look, but ends up putting Lydia on speaker anyway so Negan can eavesdrop.

“Your father got a call from the dorm supervisor about your final bill being paid for the room, so he knows you moved out. I told him I have no idea where you live now, which is the truth, but he refused to believe me. And so he’s coming there.”

“Coming here? To campus?”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know, but he said he’s going to find you, and he’s being irrational and is really pissed-off. I just wanted to warn you, you know, that he’s coming.”

“I can’t believe him!” Carl shouts into the phone, but then thanks Lydia before hanging up.

Carl lies back on the bed. “Great! What an excellent way to spend tonight.”

Negan leans on one elbow next to him. “He won’t be able to find you. No one knows where we live,” Negan assures him and smooths Carl’s bangs off his forehead.

“He may not find me, but he sure will pester Noah and ask every single person he sees in the dorm and make a huge scene.” Carl covers his face with his hands. “I should just go over there.”

“Or you could call him and give him our address and let him come here. On your territory, so you have the upper hand,” Negan suggests.

“You’re okay with that?” Carl’s hands move from his face.

“Of course. He’s your father, Carl.”

Carl looks at him quizzically, given the rift between Negan and his own dad. But when Carl sees he’s serious, he’s reminded that Negan’s willing to work on things with his parents, so Carl should be that brave, too. “I’ll call him,” he says.

Carl looks at the phone for a while before taking a deep breath and hitting his number. He’s terse on the phone, speaking very quickly. Carl can tell he’s saving all his hateful energy for when Rick sees him in person. Carl doesn't give him any details about the apartment or tells him that he lives here; he only tells her the address where he is and gets off the phone as fast as he can.

Instinctively, Carl jumps out of bed and begins to straighten up their place.

“The apartment is already clean. We have barely touched anything,” Negan says.

“I know,” Carl says. “But it makes me feel better.”

After he folds and puts away the few items of clothing that were on the floor, he lights a candle in the living room and waits at the table with Negan for his father to show. He shouldn’t be as nervous as he is—he’s an adult and he make his own choices—but he knows Rick and how badly he’s going to lose it. Carl is already overly emotional from the brief glimpse into Negan’s past Carl was granted an hour ago, and he doesn't know if he has it in him to go to battle with Rick tonight. He looks over at the clock and see it’s already eight. Hopefully Rick won’t stay long, and Negan and him can get to bed early and just hold each other while they each try to deal with their family legacies.

“Do you want me to stay out here with you or give you two some time to discuss everything?” Negan asks after a bit.

“I think we should have a little time one-on-one,” Carl says. As much as he wants Negan by his side, Carl knows that his presence will antagonize Rick.

“Wait. I just remembered something Lydia said. She said the final bill for my dorm was paid.” Carl looks at him questioningly.

“Yeah. So?”

“You paid it, didn’t you!” Carl half-shouts. Despite his energy, it’s not really out of anger, just surprise and annoyance.

“So?” Negan shrugs.

“Negan! You have got to stop spending money on me; it makes me uncomfortable.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is. It wasn’t that much,” Negan argues.

“What are you like secretly rich or something? Are you selling drugs?”

“No, I just saved up a lot of money and don’t really spend it. I lived entirely for free last year while I worked, so my paychecks just kept piling up. I never really had anything to spend money on, but now I do.” Negan smiles wide. “And I like spending it on you, so don’t fight me over it.”

“You’re lucky my father is on his way and I only have it in me to go to war with one of you,” Carl teases and Negan lets out a long chuckle that fades until they're just sitting, holding hands and waiting.

A few minutes later there is a knock, well, a pounding at the door.

Negan stands. “I’ll be right in the other room. I love you.” He gives Carl a swift kiss before exiting.

Carl fills his lungs with the deepest breath he can manage and opens the door. His father looks eerily perfect, as always.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing moving out of that dorm without telling me!” Rick shouts without introduction and pushes past him into the apartment.

“You didn’t give me much of a choice,” Carl counters, then focuses on breathing in and out to stay as calm as he can.

Rick spins back to glare at him. “Excuse me? How did I not give you a choice?”

“You threatened to not help me pay for my dorm,” Carl reminds him and crosses his arms.

“So, I gave you a choice, but you made the wrong one,” Rick snaps.

“No, you’re the one who’s wrong here.”

“Listen to you! Look at you. You aren’t the same Carl that I dropped off at college three months ago.” Rick waves his arms to gesture up and down Carl’s body. “You are defying me, even yelling at me! You have some nerve! I have done everything for you, and here you are throwing it all away.”

“I’m not throwing anything away! I have an excellent internship that pays me very well; I have a car, and a four-point-oh grade point average. What more could you possibly want from me?” Carl shouts back.

Rick’s eyes light up from the challenge, and his voice is full of venom as he says, “Well, for starters, you could have at least talked to me about everything. All of a sudden your bisexual? Or gay? What? You didn't think I would be accepting or something? Who are you? You’re not my Carl, that is for certain. My Carl wouldn’t be hanging out in some devil worshipper’s apartment in his pajamas on a Friday night.”

“Do not speak about him that way,” Carl says through his teeth. “I have already warned you.”

His father squints his eyes and cackles. Rick’s head falls back in laughter, and Carl fights the urge to punch him in the face. Carl immediately cringes at his violent thoughts, but he’s pushing him too far.

“And another thing,” Carl says slowly, calmly, to make sure he delivers the pronouncement just so. “This isn’t just his apartment. It’s our apartment.”

And just like that, Carl gets Rick to stop laughing.

 

 


	15. FIFTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you tumblr: thewalkingdead178 for the awesome graphic of cegan backwards au! I LOVE IT.

  
Rick’s posture is erect and his face has fallen.

“What did you just say?” Rick asks slowly.

“You heard me. This is our apartment—as in, we both live here.”

“There is no way that you live here. You can’t afford a place like this!” Rick scoffs.

“Would you like to see our lease? Because I have a copy.”

“This whole situation is even worse than I thought . . .” Rick says, then shifts his eyes to stare behind Carl, as if he’s not even worth looking at while he calculates his formula for Carl’s life. “I knew you were being foolish by messing around with that . . . that boy. But you are just plain stupid for moving in with him! You don’t even know him! You haven’t met his parents—aren’t you embarrassed to be seen in public with him?”

Carl’s anger boils over. He glances at the wall, trying to gather some composure, but it’s too much and before he can stop himself, now he's in his father’s face. “How dare you come into my home and insult him! I know him better than anyone, and he knows me better than you ever could! And I have actually met his family, his father at least. You want to know who his father is? He’s the goddamn chancellor of GSU!” Carl screams.

Carl hates throwing Negan’s adoptive father’s title around, but this is the type of thing that would jolt him.

Probably because he heard the break in Carl’s voice, Negan comes out of the bedroom with a worried expression. He comes over and stands beside him and tries to pull Carl back from his father, just like last time.

“Oh, great! And here’s the man of the hour,” his father mocks, and gestures wildly at him. “His father is not the chancellor.” She half-laughs.

Carl's face is red and soaked with tears, but hd couldn’t care less. “Yes, he is. Shocked? If you weren’t so busy being a judgmental asshole, you could have talked to him and found that out. You know what? You don’t even deserve to know him. He has been there for me in ways you never were, and there is nothing—and I mean nothing—you can do to keep me away from him!”

“You do not speak to me that way!” Rick screams and steps closer. “You think just because you got yourself a fancy little apartment and your eighteen that suddenly makes you a man?

Negan’s eyes narrow at Rick in warning, but Rick ignores him.

“You better end this before you lose your virtue, Carl. Just take a look in the mirror, then look at him! You two look ridiculous together; you had Lydia, who was great for you, and you threw her out for . . . this!” Rick gestures to Negan.

“Lydia has nothing to do with this,” Carl says.

Negan’s jaw clenches and Carl silently begs him not to say anything.

“Lydia loves you, and I know you love her. Now stop this rebellious charade and come with me. I will get you back into your dorm, and Lydia will certainly forgive you.” Rick reaches a hand out authoritatively, as if Carl will take it and stroll out of here with him.

Carl grabs the bottom of his shirt with his fists. “You are so insane. Honestly, Dad, listen to yourself! I don’t want to come with you. I live here with Negan and I love him. Not Lydia. I care for Lydia, but I’m not in love with her like I thought I was.”

“Carl! He doesn’t love you—he is only going to stay around until he gets into your pants. Open your eyes, little boy!”

Something about the way Rick just called him “little boy” sends him over the edge.

“He has already gotten into my pants, and guess what! He’s still around!” Carl shouts. Negan and his father share the same shocked expression, but his father’s turns to disgust while Negan’s turns to a sympathetic frown.

“I’ll tell you one thing, Carl. When he breaks your heart and you have nowhere to go . . . you better not come to me.”

“Oh, trust me, I wouldn’t. This is why you’ll always be alone. You have no control over me anymore—I am an adult. Just because you couldn’t control my mother doesn’t give you the right to try to control me!” As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets them. He knowx bringing his mothef into this is low, too low. Before he can apologize, Carl feels Rick’s hand connect with his cheek. The shock is more painful than the assault.

Negan steps between them and puts his hand on Rick’s shoulder. Carl face stings and he bites his lip to keep from crying harder.

“If you don’t get the fuck out of our apartment, I will call the police,” Negan warns Rick. The calm tone of his voice sends chills down Carl’s spine, and Carl notices his father shiver, his tone clearly unnerving her, too.

“You wouldn’t.”

“You just put your hands on him, right in front of me, and you think I wouldn’t call the police on you? If you weren’t her dad, I would do much worse than that. Now you have five seconds to get out,” Negan says, and Carl stares at his father with wide eyes and brings his hand to his burning skin.

  
Carl doesn't like the way Negan threatened him, but Carl wants him to leave. After a challenging staring match between the two of them, Negan growls, “Two seconds.”

Rick huffs and heads toward the door, the loud clamor of his boots echoing off the concrete floor.

“I hope you’re happy with your decision, Carl,” Rick says and slams the door.

Negan’s arms wrap around him in the most comforting and reassuring embrace, and it’s exactly what he needs right now.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Negan says into Carl’s hair.

“I’m sorry that he said those terrible things about you.” Carl’s need to defend him is stronger than any concern for himself or his father.

“Shh. Don’t worry about me. People say shit about me all the time,” Negan reminds him.

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“Carl, please don’t worry about me right now. What do you need? Can I do anything for you?” Negan asks.

“Maybe some ice?” Carl chokes.

“Sure, baby.” Negan kisses his forehead and walks over to the fridge.

Carl knew Rick coming here wouldn’t end well, but he hadn’t expected it to be as bad as it was. On one hand he’s beyond proud of himself for standing up to him, but at the same time he feels terribly guilty for what he said about his mother. He knows it wasn’t his fault that she left, and it’s never been lost on him that Rick was a mess until Michonne stepped in. Carl respects Rick and how hard he worked, but he needs to carve his own path and Rick has to see that he can’t make up for his mistakes through Carl. Carl makes too many of his own mistakes for that to work, anyway. He wishes Rick could be happy for him and see how much he loves Negan.

As long as Negan could contain his rudeness . . . which isn’t likely, but Carl has noticed the small changes in him. Like the way he holds Carl’s hand in public and the way Negan leans down to kiss him nearly every time Carl passes him in the hallway of their apartment. Maybe Carl is the only person he will ever let inside, the only one who he reveals secrets to, and the only one he loves, but that’s fine with Carl. To be honest, the selfish part of him kind of enjoys it.

Negan pulls the chair out next to his and puts the makeshift ice pack against Carl’s cheek. The soft kitchen towel wrapped around it feels great against Carl’s sensitive skin.

“I can’t believe he smacked me,” Carl says slowly. The towel drops onto the tile floor and Negan reaches down to pick it up.

“Me either. I thought I was going to lose it,” Negan says and looks into his eyes.

“I thought you were too,” Carl admits and gives him a weak smile.

Carl feels like today has been dragging on for too long; it has been the longest and most draining day of his life. He’s exhausted and he just wants to be carried away. Preferably into bed with Negan, to forget about the downfall of his relationship with his father.

“I love you too much, or trust me, I would have.” Negan smiles back and kisses both of Carl’s closed eyelids.

Carl chooses to believe that he wouldn’t actually do anything to Rick, that he is just speaking metaphorically. Somehow he knows that even through all his rage he wouldn’t do something terrible, and that makes Carl love him more. Carl has come to learn that when it comes to him, Negan is more bark than bite.

“I really want to go to bed,” Carl tells him and Negan nods.

“Of course.”

Carl pulls the blanket back before lying on his side of the bed. “Do you think he will always be this way?” He asks Negan.

Negan shrugs, tossing a spare pillow onto the floor. “I would say no, that people change and mature. But I don’t want to get your hopes up.”

Carl lies down on his stomach, burying his face in his pillow.

“Hey,” Negan says softly against his neck, trailing a finger down the curve of Carl’s back. Carl rolls over, sighing as he takes in the concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” Carl lies. He needs a distraction. He lifts his hand to Negan’s face, brushing his thumb over the curve of Negan’s full lips.

“Having fun staring at me like I’m some science experiment?” Negan teases.

Carl simple nods.

“Good to know.” Negan rolls his eyes and takes Carl’s thumb between his teeth before Carl can pull away. Carl jerks back, hitting his hand against the headboard.

Carl moves to swat at him, the way he often does, and Negan grabs Carl’s sore hand between both of his and brings it to his mouth. Carl pouts playfully until Negan tongue swirls around the tip of Carl’s index finger in the most provocative way. Negan continues this across each fingertip until Carl is a panting, needy mess—How does he do this? Such odd acts of affection from Negan affect him so intensely.

“Feel good?” Negan asks, dropping Carl’s hand onto his lap. Carl nods again, at a loss for words. “Want more?” Negan swipes his tongue across his lips, wetting them. Carl nods again.

“Words, baby,” Negan insists.

“Yes. More, please.” Carl’s brain clearly doesn’t work. Carl leans into him, needing his touch, needing him to continue the distraction. Negan shifts on the bed, tugging at the strings of Carl’s pajama pants with one hand and pushing his own hair back from his forehead with the other. Carl’s boxers are pulled down and left at his ankles as Carl’s pants hit the floor.

Negan gives him a smile while lowering his head. The moment his tongue finds Carl’s cock, Carl grips at the sheets and he works quickly, fingering him slowly and sucking him off. Carl pushes his hands into Negan’s hair, silently thanking whoever it was who discovered this knowledge as Negan brings Carl to orgasm, twice.

Negan holds him tight all night long and whispers how much he loves him. As Carl starts to drift off, he thinks about the day they just had: his relationship with his father is damaged, possibly beyond repair, and Negan shared more information about his childhood with him.

Carl’s dreams are clouded by a scared black haired boy crying out for his mother.

~O~

The next morning Carl is pleased to see that his father’s assault has not left any visible marks. Carl’s chest still hurts from the collapse of their already crumbling relationship, but he refuses to dwell on that today.

Carl takes a shower and pull Negan's shirt from yesterday over his head. He puts little kisses all over Negan's shoulders and ears to wake him up, and when Carl's stomach grumbles he pads into the kitchen to make them some breakfast. He wants to start the day in the best way he can so they can both remain happy and calm before the wedding. By the time Carl finishes his self-imposed kitchen therapy, he's pretty proud of the meal he has prepared. The counter is filled with bacon, eggs, toast, pancakes, and even hash browns. Carl has made way too much food for the two of them, but Negan usually eats an enormous amount anyway, so there shouldn’t be too much left.

Carl feels strong arms wrap around his waist. “Damn. What is all this?” Negan asks in a raspy, sleep-filled voice. “This is exactly why I wanted to live together,” Negan says into Carl’s neck.

“Why? So I could make you breakfast?” Carl laughs.

“No, well, yes. That and waking up to seeing you half dressed in the kitchen.” Negan nips at Carl’s neck. Negan attempts to lift up the hem of the T-shirt and squeezes the top of Carl’s thighs.

Carl spins and waves a spatula in his face. “Hands to yourself until after breakfast, Travis.”

“Yes, sir.” Negan chuckles and grabs a plate, piling it with food.

After breakfast, Carl forces Negan to take a shower despite his efforts to drag him back to the bed. Negan’s dark confession and the fight with his father seem to be forgotten in the morning light. Carl’s breath is lost in his chest when Negan walks out of the bedroom in his outfit for the wedding. The black dress pants are snug but hang off his hips in the most delicious way, and his tie is hanging around his neck while his white button-down shirt is undone, revealing his gorgeous, toned torso.

“I . . . uhh . . . I actually have no idea how to tie a tie.” Negan shrugs.

Carl’s mouth is dry and he can’t stop staring at him, so he chokes out, “I can help you.” Thankfully, Negan doesn’t ask where he learned to tie a tie, since his mood would turn sour quickly at the mention of Lydia. “You look so handsome,” Carl tells him when he finishes. Negan shrugs and puts the black jacket on, completing the look.

Negan’s cheeks flame and Carl can’t help but laugh at the unexpected emotion. Carl can tell Negan feels completely out of his element being dressed this way—and it’s adorable.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Negan asks.

“I was waiting until the last minute, since my suit is all white,” Carl tells him and Negan mocks him playfully.

Finally, after another check of his hair and grabbing his shoes, Carl does put the suit on. It’s even snugged than he remembers, but Negan seems to approve. Negan’s eyes never leave Carl’s hips and ass. Negan always makes him feel so beautiful and wanted.

“As long as all the people there are Hershel’s age, we shouldn’t have a problem.” Negan smirks and runs his finger along Carl’s vest. Carl rolls his eyes and Negan kisses his bare shoulder before Carl finishes gelling up his hair. Carl smiles at the reflection of Negan and him in the mirror.

“You look like a angel,” Negan tells him, kissing him again.

They scramble around and make sure they have everything they need for the wedding, including the invitation and a congratulations card he bought. As he puts his phone into a small bag, Negan grabs him by the waist.

“Smile,” Negan says and pulls out his phone.

“I thought you didn’t take pictures.”

“I told you I would take one, so let’s take one.” Negan’s smile is goofy and youthful and it makes Carl’s heart swell.

Carl smiles and leans into Negan as he snaps our picture. “One more,” Negan instructs and Carl sticks his tongue out at the last moment. Megan captured it at the right moment, Carl’s tongue on Negan’s cheek and his eyes wide and full of humor.

“That’s my favorite,” Carl tells him.

“There are only two.”

“Yeah, but still.” Carl kisses him and Negan snaps another.

“Accident,” Negan lies, and Carl hears him take another as Carl gives him a look.

Near Hershel’s house, Negan stops to get gas so they don’t have to on the way home. As he is filling up, a familiar car pulls into the parking lot, with Simon in the front seat. Dwight parks his car two pumps over from Negan’s and gets out to go inside.

Carl gasps when he gets a good look at Dwight: his lip is swollen, and both his eyes are black and blue. His cheek has a deep purple bruise, and when he notices Negan’s car a furious scowl takes over his handsome, damaged face. What the hell? He doesn’t say anything at all, or even acknowledge Negan and him. Within seconds, Negan climbs back into the car and takes Carl’s hand. Carl looks down at their intertwined fingers and gasps, his eyes trailing over Negan’s busted knuckles.

“You!” Carl says and Negan raises his brow. “You beat him up, didn’t you? That’s who you fought and that’s why he just ignored us!”

“Would you calm down?” Negan barks and rolls up Carl’s window before pulling out of the lot.

“Negan . . .” Carl looks over to where Dwight has disappeared inside, then back at Negan.

“Can we please talk about it after the wedding? I’m already on edge. Please?” Negan begs and Carl nods.

“Fine. After the wedding,” Carl agrees and gently squeezes the hand of Negan’s that did so much damage to his friend.

  
Clearly trying to change the subject, Negan asks, “So now that we have our own place, I assume you don’t want to stay at Hershel’s house tonight still?”

Carl forces Dwight’s beaten face to the back of his mind. “You’d assume correctly.” Carl smiles. “Unless Charlotte asks us to; you know I won’t say no,” Carl tells him.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Negan says and reaches for the radio.

Carl looks over at him and he holds his finger up to tell him to wait. “I decided to give Nirvana another try,” Negan informs him.

“Really? And when did you decide this?” Carl questions.

“Well, after our first date at the stream, but I didn’t open the CD until last week,” Negan admits.

“That was not a date,” Carl teases and Negan chuckles.

“You let me suck you off. I would say that’s a date.”

Negan grabs Carl’s hand as Carl tries to swat him and kisses his palm. Carl laughs and wraps his fingers around his slender ones. Images of him lying on the wet T-shirt while Negan gave him his first orgasm floods his thoughts and Negan smirks.

“That was fun, huh?” Negan boasts and Carl laughs.

“Anyway, tell me your evolved opinion on Nirvana,” Carl requests.

“Well, they are not so bad, actually. There is one song that really sticks with me.”

Now Carl is even more curious. “Really?”

“Yeah . . .” Negan says and his eyes flicker to the road before he presses the button on his radio. Music floods through the small space and Carl immediately smiles.

“It’s called ‘Love Buzz,’ ” Negan says, as if it’s new information to Carl and not already one of Carl’s favorites.

They listen to the lyrics silently and Carl can’t fight the silly grin on his face. Carl knows Negan is slightly embarrassed by playing this song for him, so Carl doesn't discuss it. He will simply enjoy this tender moment with Negan.

The rest of the drive is filled with Negan flipping through songs on the album, telling him what he thinks of each one. This small but meaningful gesture means more to Carl than he will ever know. Carl loves these moments when Negan shows him a new side of himself. This side is one of Carl’s new favorites.

When they arrive at Hershel’s house, the street is full of cars. Stepping out, Carl feels the crisp wind blow through him, and he shivers. Negan shrugs out of his jacket and lays it over Carl’s shoulders. It’s surprisingly warm and smells like him, Carl’s favorite scent.

“Well, look at you being such a gentleman. Who would have thought?” Carl teases.

“Don’t make me take you back to the car and fuck you,” Negan says, and Carl makes a noise between a gasp and squeak, which Negan finds very amusing. “Do you have room in your pockets to hold my phone?” he asks.

“Yes.” Carl smiles and holds his hand out. Negan places the phone in Carl’s palm, and he notice his background is no longer plain gray. The small screen holds the picture of Carl that he snapped while he was talking to him in the room. Carl’s lips are slightly parted and his eyes are full of life. Carl’s cheeks have a warm glow; it’s strange to see himself that way. This is what Negan does to him—Negan makes him come alive.

“I love you,” Carl tells him and pockets the phone without putting Negan on the spot about his new background.

Inside, Hershel and Charlotte’s large house is full of people, and Negan grips his hand tightly after retrieving his jacket and putting it back on.

“Let’s try to find Enid,” Carl suggests.

Negan gives him a nod and leads the way. They end up finding her in the living room next to the china cabinet that replaced the one Negan broke the first night Carl came here. Which seems so long ago. Enid is surrounded by a group of women who all look to be at least sixty, and one of them has her hand on Enid’s shoulder. A smile appears on Enid’s face when she spots them, and she excuses himself from their conversation. She looks very beautiful in a white dress, matching Carl’s suit perfectly.

“Whoa, I never thought I’d live to see you in a suit and tie.” Enid laughs.

“If you keep talking about it, you won’t live much longer,” Negan threatens, but there’s humor behind his words as he smiles. Carl can tell he is warming up to Enid, and that makes Carl happy. Enid is one of his closest friends, and he really cares for her.

“My mother will be thrilled. And Carl, you look handsome,” she says and pulls him in for a hug. Negan doesn’t let go of Carl’s hand while he tries to hug Enid back, so he does his best with one arm.

“Who are all these people?” Carl asks. He knows Hershel and Charlotte have been here only a little over two years, so it’s astounding that there are at least two hundred people here.

“Most of them are Herhsel’s friends from the university, and the rest are friends and family. I only know about half of them.” Negan laughs. “Would you guys like a drink? Everyone will be going outside in about ten minutes.”

“Whose bright idea was it to have an outdoor wedding in December?” Negan complains.

“Charlotte’s,” Enid says. “Besides, the tents are heated, obviously.” She looks around at the crowd, then back at Negan. “You should go let Hershel know that you are here. He’s upstairs. My mother is hiding somewhere with my aunt.”

“Um. I think I’ll just stay down here,” Negan replies.

Carl caresses his hand with his thumb; Negan gives him an appreciative squeeze, and Enid nods. “Well, I have to go for now, but I will see you after,” she says and leaves them with a smile.

“Do you want to go outside now?” Carl asks Negan and he nods. “I love you,” Carl tells him.

Negan smiles, full dimples. “I love you, Car,” he says and plants a kiss on Carl’s cheek.

Negan opens the back door and gives Carl his jacket once again. Stepping out, Carl sees that the backyard has been wonderfully transformed. Two large tents take up most of the yard, and hanging from the trees and the patio are hundreds of small glowing lanterns. Even in the daylight, they are beautiful, and it’s all quite a sight to behold.

“I think it’s this one,” Negan says and gestures to the smaller of the two tents.

The squeeze through the part in the flaps, and indeed he is right. Rows of wooden chairs face a simple altar, with beautiful white flowers hung on some walls and all the guests in black-and-white attire. About half the seats are full, so they take a seat in the second-to-last row, because Carl knows Negan doesn’t want to be up close.

“I never thought I would be attending a wedding,” Negan says to him.

“I know. I am incredibly proud of you for coming. It will mean so much to them. It maybe sounds like you think it will be good for you, too.” Carl leans his head on Negan’s shoulder, and Negan snakes his arm around him.

They begin to talk about the beautiful way this tent has been decorated, in all black and white. Simple and elegant. Its simplicity makes Carl feel even more like he’s been invited to an intimate, personal moment in his family, despite the large number of guests.

“I guess the reception is in the other tent?” Negan says and twirls a piece of Carl’s hair between his thumb and index finger.

“I think so. I bet it’s even more beautiful than—”

“Negan? Is that you?” a woman’s voice says. They both turn our heads to the left. An elderly woman in a black-and-white floral dress and flat shoes stares at us them wide eyes. “Oh my heavens, it is you!” she gasps. Her gray hair is swept back into a simple bun, and her minimal makeup makes her look healthy, radiant.

For his part, all the color has drained from Negan’s face as he stands up and greets her. “Gammy.”

She pulls him in for a tight hug. “I can’t believe you’re here. I haven’t seen you in years. Look at you, you handsome boy. Well, man, now. I can’t believe how tall you are!” She scowls.

Negan flushes and gives out an uncomfortable laugh. “How have you been?” he asks her and shifts back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“I am good, dear—I’ve missed you so much,” she says and pats the corners of her eyes. After a beat, she dramatically looks around him at Carl and asks with notable interest, “And who is this lovely young man?”

“Oh . . . sorry. This is Car . . . Carl. My . . . Boyfriend,” he answers. “Carl, this is my grandmother.”

Carl smiles and stands up. The thought of meeting Negan’s grandparents had never crossed his mind. He had assumed they were dead, like his. Negan has never brought them up, but that isn’t surprising. Carl supposes he hasn't, either.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Carl says to her and reaches to shake her hand, but she has other plans and pulls him in for a hug and kisses his cheek.

“The pleasure is all mine. What a beautiful man you are!” she says in an Southern accent even thicker than Negan’s. “My name is Carol, but you will call me Gammy if you want.”

“Thank you,” Carl says, laughing.

She claps her hands in glee. “I just can’t believe you are here. Have you seen Hershel recently? Does he know you are here?” she asks, looking back at Negan.

Negan bashfully puts his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, he knows. I have sort of been coming here lately.”

“Well, that is so great to hear. I had no idea,” she says and Carl can tell she is on the brink of tears again.

“Okay, everyone, if you could all take a seat, the ceremony will begin shortly,” a man with a microphone says from the raised platform up front.

Carol pulls Negan by the arm before he can protest. “Come sit with the family—you two shouldn’t be all the way back here.” Negan looks back at him and gives him a look that says “help me,” but Carl just smiles and follows them to the front. They take a seat next to someone who looks a lot like Charlotte and he assumes that is her sister. Negan takes Carl’s hand in his, and his grandmother looks down and smiles at their affection before putting her hand on his other one. He stiffens a little but doesn’t remove it.

Hershel walks to his place, and the look on his face when he spots his Negan sitting in the front row is indescribable: heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. Negan even gives him a small smile, which Hershel happily returns. Enid stands next to Hershel on the stage, but Negan doesn’t seem to mind; he would never have agreed to be up there anyway.

When Charlotte enters, a collective sigh sounds through the room. She looks so beautiful as she walks down the aisle. Her face when she spots her groom makes Carl lean into Hardin’s shoulder. Happiness is radiating off of her, and her smile lights up the tent. Her dress is brushing against the floor, and her cheeks are glowing, adding to the ambience.

The ceremony is beautiful and Carl finds himself with wet cheeks when Hershel’s voice cracks into a small sob as he recites his vows to his bride. Negan looks over at him and smiles, removing his hand from Carl’s and wiping Carl’s cheeks. Charlotte makes a beautiful bride and their first kiss as husband and wife earns cheers and applause from the crowd.

“Sap,” Negan teases as Carl lays his head on Negan’s shoulder while the crowd files out.

After a bit, they accompany Negan’s grandma to the other tent, and Carl was right—it’s even more beautiful than the first one. Up near the walls of this tent are tables draped with white cloth and topped with black napkins and centerpieces of black and white flowers. The ceiling is covered in lanterns just like the yard, and they cast a subtle glow throughout the room, reflecting nicely off the glassware and glossy white plates. The middle of the tent is cleared for what appears to be a dance floor with black and white tiles, and waiters are standing at the ready, waiting for everyone to get their seats.

“Now, don’t you disappear. I want to see you again tonight,” Negan’s grandmother says and leaves them.

“This is the fanciest wedding I have been to,” Negan says and looks at the white cloth draped across the ceiling.

“I haven’t been to a wedding since I was a child,” Carl tells him and Negan smiles.

“I like that,” Negan says and kisses his cheek.

Carl’s not used to his public displays of affection, but he could get used to them quickly.

“Like what?” Carl asks as Negan sits down at one of the tables.

“That you haven’t been to a wedding with Lydia,” Negan says and Carl laughs to avoid frowning.

“Me, too,” Carl assures him and Negan smiles.

The food is delicious. Carl goes for the chicken, and Negan chooses the steak. They set things up in a buffet line to keep it casual, but the food is anything but. Carl drags a piece of chicken through the creamy sauce and brings the fork to his mouth—but Negan snatches it from him, smiling as he chews the bite. He coughs a little, trying to master chewing and laughing at once.

“That’s what you get for stealing my food,” Carl teases him, popping a new piece into his mouth before he can grab it.

Negan laughs, leaning into Carl’s shoulder, and Carl catches the woman across from them staring. Her expression isn’t amused as she watches Negan press his lips against Carl’s shoulder. Carl stares back at her equally harshly and she looks away.

“Do you want me to get you another plate?” Carl asks Negan, loud enough for the rude woman to hear his offer. She looks over at the man next to her and raises a brow. He doesn’t seem to be paying attention to her, which annoys her further. Carl smiles and places his hand over Negan’s. He’s as oblivious as the man across the table, and Carl’s glad.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thank you.”

Carl leans down to kiss his cheek and make his way back to the line for food.

“Carl?” a familiar voice calls. Carl looks over to see Mr. Blake and Sophia standing a few feet away.

“Hello.” Carl smiles.

“You look very handonse,” Sophia says, and he thanks her quietly.

“How are you enjoying your weekend?” Mr. Blake asks him.

“It’s great. I’ve been enjoying my weeks of late as well,” Carl assures him.

“Oh, sure.” He laughs and grabs himself a plate.

“No red meat!” Andrea says from behind him. He pretends to shoot himself in the temple, and she blows him a kiss. Andrea and Mr. Blake? Who would have thought? Carl will have to press her for details on Monday.

“Women,” Mr. Blake teases and fills her plate as Carl does Negan’s.

“I’ll see you in a few.” He smiles and walks back to his date. Andrea waves at him and gets the young girl on her lap to do the same. Carl waves back, wondering suddenly if she has a child.

Sophia leans in and answers his thoughts. “It’s his daughter.”

“Oh,” Carl says and looks away from Andrea.

Sophia keeps his eyes on Mr. Blake. “His wife passed away five years ago, right after she was born. He hasn’t dated anyone until Andrea, and they’ve only been seeing each other for a few months, but he is head over heels for her.” She turns to him and smiles.

“Well, now I know who to hit up for all the office gossip,” Carl jokes and they both laugh.

“Babe . . .” Negan says and wraps his arm around Carl’s waist, clearly in an attempt to claim his territory.

“Nice to see you. Negan, is it?” Sophia asks.

“Yeah,” Negan answers shortly. “We better get back to our seats; Enid is looking for you.” Negan pulls Carl closer to him, silently dismissing Sophia.

“I’ll see you later, Sophia!” Carl smiles politely and hands Negan his plate of food as they walk back to the table.

  
“Where’s Enid?” Carl asks Negan when they take their seats.

Negan takes a bite of a croissant. “I don’t know.”

“Um, you said she was looking for me?”

“She was, but I don’t know where she is now.”

“Negan, you shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.” His grandmother appears behind him.

Carl notices him take a deep breath before Negan turns to her. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“I wanted to see you before I go—God knows when I will see you again. Can you save a dance for your gammy?” she asks oh so adorably, but he shakes his head. “Why not?” she asks him with a smile.

Carl realizes now that it wasn’t just shock that had Negan rattled before. There’s a tension between them that Carl can’t quite put his finger on.

“I’m on my way to get Carl a drink,” Negan lies and leaves the table.

His grandmother laughs uncomfortably. “Well, he’s something, isn’t he?” Carl’s not sure what to say; his first instinct is to defend him, but it seems she is joking.

She turns to him sharply. “Is he still drinking?”

“What? N-no,” Carl stutters, completely caught off guard. “Well, he only drinks every once in a while,” he clarifies as he sees Negan walking toward them with two flutes full of pink liquid.

Negan hands him one and Carl smiles and lifts it to his lips. It smells sweet when he tips the glass back to take a drink, and the bubbles spritz lightly, tickling his nose. It tastes just as sweet as it smells.

“Champagne,” Negan informs him and Carl thanks him.

“Carl!” Charlotte practically shouts right before she wraps her arms around him. She has changed out of her wedding dress and into a white knee-length wrap dress, not that she looks any less stunning. “I’m so thrilled that you two came! How was it?” she asks. Charlotte is the only person who would ask how her own wedding was; she is too kind.

“It was so lovely; it was beautiful.” Carl smiles.

Negan puts his hand on the small of his back and Carl leans into him. He can sense how uncomfortable he is between his grandmother and Charlotte, and now Hershel is making his way over to them.

“Thank you for coming,” Hershel says to Negan and holds out his hand to shake.

Negan obliges and quickly shakes his adoptive father’s hand. Carl notices Hershel start to lift his arm up to hug Negan, but he lowers it before following through. Still, Hershel’s face is full of excitement and joy.

“Carl, you look nice.” Hershel hugs him and then eagerly asks, “Are you enjoying yourselves?”

Carl can’t help but feel a little awkward.“Yeah. It’s a nice setup you’ve got out here.” Negan does his best to praise Hershel. Carl puts his hand on Negan’s back and rub small circles to ease him.

Negan’s grandmother coughs and looks at Hershel. “I didn’t know that you two were speaking.”

Hershel rubs the back of his neck, a habit that Negan has as well.

“Yeah. Let’s talk about this another time, Carol,” Hershel says and she nods in agreement.

Carl takes another drink out of his glass and tries not to dwell on the fact that he’s drinking underage in front of adults. In front of the chancellor of his school.

A waiter in a black vest walks by with a tray of champagne, and when Hershel grabs a flute Carl cringes. But he hands the glass to his new bride and Carl relaxes, extremely glad to see that he isn’t drinking.

“Want another?” Negan asks him and Carl looks at Charlotte .

“Go ahead, it’s a wedding,” she tells him and Carl smiles.

“Sure,” he says and Negan leaves to get him another glass.

They talk about the wedding and the flowers for a minute, and when Negan comes back with only one flute, Charlotte m gets concerned and asks him, “You don’t like the champagne?”

“Oh yeah, it’s good, but I already had a glass and I’m driving,” Negan replies, and Charlotte m looks at him with adoration clear in her brown eyes.

She turns to Carl. “Do you have time to come by this week? I ordered some seeds for the greenhouse.”

“Yes, of course. I’m free anytime after four all week,” Carl says.

The pleased yet astonished look on Carol’s face is obvious as she looks back and forth between Charlotte and him. “So how long have you two been seeing one another?” she asks Negan and him.

“A few months,” Negan tells her quietly.

Sometimes Carl forgets that no one outside of their —well, Negan’s—group of friends knows that they despised each other up until two months ago.

“Oh, so no great-grandchildren for me anytime soon?” Carol laughs and Negan’s face flushes.

“No, no. We’ve only just moved in together,” Negan says, and Charlotte and Carl both spit champagne back into their glasses at the same time.

“You two moved in together?” Hershel asks.

Carl had not expected Negan to tell them today. Heck, Carl hasn't even been sure he would tell them at all, given how he is. Carl is shocked and a little embarrassed at his reaction, but mostly pleased that he has no problem admitting it.

“Yeah, we moved into Artisan a few days ago,” Negan explains.

“Wow, that’s a nice place, and closer to Carl’s internship,” Hershel remarks.

“Yeah,” Negan says, clearly trying to measure how everyone feels about our bombshell.

“Well, I am very happy for you, son.” Hershel places his hand on his son’s shoulder and Carl watches with a neutral expression. “I never imagined you would be this happy and so at peace.”

“Thank you,” Negan says and actually smiles.

“Maybe we could come by sometime and see it?” Hershel asks, and Charlotte’s eyes lower.

“Hershel . . .” she warns, clearly remembering the time Hershel pushed Negan too far.

“Uh, yeah, I guess you could,” Negan says, surprising them all.

“Really?” Hershel asks and Negan nods. “Okay, just let us know when is good for the two of you.” His eyes are slightly glossy.

Music begins to play through the tent and Charlotte grabs Hershel’s arm. “That’s our cue—thank you both so much for coming,” she says and leans in to kiss Carl’s cheek.

“You have done so much for this family, you have no idea,” she whispers in Carl’s ear before pulling away, tears shining in her eyes.

“Time for the bride and groom’s first dance!” a voice announces through the speakers. Negan’s grandmother walks away as well, following the crowd to watch.

“You just made their day,” Carl tells Negan and kisses his cheek.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Negan says.

“What?” Carl’s head is a little fuzzy from the two glasses of champagne he just finished.

“Upstairs,” he repeats, sending that familiar electricity through Carl.

“Now?” Carl laughs.

“Now.”

“But all these people . . .”

Negan doesn’t respond; instead he takes Carl’s hand and leads him through the crowd and out of the tent. When they get inside the house, Negan grabs him another glass of champagne, and Carl tries not to let it spill as he rushes up the stairs to keep up with him.

“Is something wrong?” Carl asks him as he shuts the bedroom door and locks it.

“I need you,” Negan says darkly and pulls his jacket off.

“Are you okay, though?” Carl asks, his heart already beating out of his chest.

“Yes, I just need a distraction,” Negan groans and steps toward him, grabbing the glass and setting it on the dresser. Negan takes another step, encircling Carl’s wrists in his hands and then lifting them over his head.

Carl will gladly be his distraction from the overload of everything downstairs—seeing his grandmother for the first time in years, watching Hershel get married, agreeing to let them come to their apartment. That is a lot for Negan in such a short period of time.

Instead of asking him any questions or pushing him further, Carl grabs him by the collar of his shirt and push his hips out to meet his. Negan’s already hard. Groaning, Negan lets go of his wrists, allowing him to comb Carl’s fingers through his hair. When his mouth moves over his, Negan’s tongue is hot and sweet with the lingering taste of champagne. Within seconds he is reaching into his pocket and pulling out a foil packet.

“I’m going to stop using these soon. I want to really be able to feel you.” Negan’s voice is husky and he pulls Carl’s lower lip between his, sucking lightly and seductively, making Carl’s body crave him even more.

Carl hears him unzip and he hisses as Carl’s hands reach down and push his pants and boxers down to his knees. Negan’s hands unzipped and yanks Carl’s pants and pulls his boxers down. Negan chuckles lightly before connecting his lips with Carl’s neck. Negan’s hands squeeze his hips before he lifts Carl up and Carl whimpers a little, wrapping his legs around Negan’s waist.

Carl’s hands grip the top of his suit in an attempt to pull it up, but Negan pleads into his neck, “No, leave it on. This suit is so incredibly sexy . . . it’s so sexy, yet white and virginal looking . . . and fuck . . . it’s so hot. You’re so beautiful.” Negan lifts him up farther, then lowers Carl onto him. Carl’s back is against the smooth door and Negan begins guiding Carl up and down. There is a fever and a desperation in him that Carl has not seen at this level before, and he feels as though he’s ice and Negan is fire. They are so completely different, yet the same.

“Is . . . this . . . okay?” Negan stutters, his arms wrapped around Carl’s back to keep him steady.

“Yes,” Carl moans. The feeling of Negan taking him this way, against the door, his legs around Negan’s waist, is very intense but heavenly all the same.

“Kiss me,” Negan begs.

Carl slides his tongue across Negan’s lips before his mouth parts, allowing him access. Tugging at his hair, Carl does his best to kiss him as Negan moves in and out of him faster and faster. Their bodies are moving vigorously, but their kiss remains slow and intimate.

“I can’t get enough of you, Carl, I . . . fuck. I love you,” Negan says into Carl’s mouth and Carl gasps and moans, that feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.

A few grunts escape Negan’s lips and Carl cries out, both of them reaching their climaxes. “Let go, baby,” Negan instructs, and Carl does just that. Negan leaves his lips pressed against his, swallowing Carl’s moans as Negan tenses and spills into the condom.

With a few heavy breaths his head falls onto Carl’s chest and he continues to hold Carl in place for a few seconds before lifting Carl and then lowering Carl to stand on his own feet.

Carl tilts his head back against the door and catches his breath as Negan neatly puts the condom back into the wrapper and puts it into his pocket before pulling his pants back up.

“Remind me to throw that away as soon as we get downstairs.” Negan laughs and Carl joins in. “Thank you,” Negan says and kisses his cheek. “Not for what we just did, but for everything.”

“You never need to thank me, Negan. You do as much for me as I do for you.” Carl looks into his bright hazel eyes. “Actually, more.”

“No way.” Negan shakes his head gently and takes Carl’s hand. “Let’s go back down before someone comes looking for us.”

“How do I look?” Carl asks, running his fingers through his hair and neatly straightening out his clothes.

“Freshly fucked,” Negan teases and Carl rolls his eyes. “You look beautiful.”

“So do you,” Carl tells him.

~O~

Almost everyone in the tent is dancing by the time they return, and it seems that their absence has gone unnoticed. As they take our seats another song begins. Carl recognizes it: “Never Let Me Go,” by Florence and the Machine.

“Do you want to dance?” Carl asks Negan, even though he’s sure he already know his answer.

“No, I don’t dance,” Negan says and looks over at him. “Unless . . . you want to?” he adds.

Carl is surprised by his offer and thrilled that Negan would dance with him. Negan holds his hand out for Carl, but really Carl is the one who leads them onto the checkered dance floor, moving quickly in case he changes his mind. They stay in the back, a good distance from the crowd.

“I don’t have a clue what to do.” Negan laughs.

“I’ll show you,” Carl assures him and place his hands on Carl’s hips. Negan steps on Carl’s feet a few times, but he catches on quickly. Never in a million years would he have even entertained the thought that Negan would be dancing at a wedding.

“Sort of a demented song to play at a wedding, isn’t it?” Negan laughs into Carl’s ear.

“Not really; it’s sort of perfect,” Carl says and leans his head on Nsgan’s chest.

Carl is aware that they aren’t actually dancing as much as they are just swaying back and forth holding each other, but that’s fine with him. They stay that way for the next two songs, which end up being two of my favorites. “You Found Me” by the Fray makes Negan laugh as he holds Carl close to him. The next, a pop song by a boy band, plays, making Carl smile and him roll his eyes. During both, Negan gives him some background on his grandmother. She still lives in South Carolina, but he hasn’t seen or spoken to her since she phoned him on his twelfth birthday. She took his Negan’s father’s side during his parent’s divorce and defended his drinking, essentially blaming Negan’s mother for everything, which was enough for Negan to not want to speak to her again. He seems very comfortable sharing this information with Carl, so he stays quiet, only nodding and humming in acknowledgment of his remarks.

Negan makes a few jokes about how annoying and whiny all the songs being played are, and Carl laughs at him.

“You want to go back upstairs?” Negan jokes and lowers his hand on Carl’s back.

“Maybe.”

“I’ll have to give you champagne more often.” Carl moves Negan’s hands back up to his waist and Negan pouts, which makes Carl laugh even more. “I’m actually having a pretty decent time,” Negan admits.

“Me, too. Thank you for coming with me.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Carl knows he doesn’t mean the wedding but just with Carl in general. The thought sends warmth through him.

Tonight has been better than Carl could have dreamed.

After the song ends, they tell the happy bride and groom that they’re going to go, and they all exchange hugs once again, Negan’s being maybe incrementally less stiff than earlier. Someone calls Hershel’s name and he nods at them. He and Charlotte say their final goodbyes and thank them once again for coming to the wedding before disappearing into the crowd.

“I’ve never want to dance this long again,” Carl says.

“Would you like me to carry you?” Negan says in a mocking, babylike voice.

“No.” Carl laughs.

As they are leaving the tent, Sophia walks by with Mr. Blake and Andrea m. Her smile is bright and she winks at Carl after looking Negan up and down. Carl tries to stifle his laugh and end up coughing.

“Did you save me a dance?” Mr. Blake teases Hardin.

“No, absolutely not.” Negan laughs back at him.

“You’re leaving so soon?” Sophia looks at him.

“We have been here for a while, actually,” Negan answers for him and pulls Carl away from them. “Nice to see you, Philip,” Negan calls over his shoulder as they walk out of the tent.

“That was rude.” Carl scolds him when they get to his car.

“She was flirting with you. I’m entitled to be as rude as I please.”

“Sophia wasn’t flirting; she was just being nice.”

Negan rolls his eyes. “She wants you, I can tell. Don’t be so naïve.”

“Just be nice to her, please. I work with her and I don’t want any problems,” Carl says calmly. Tonight has been too good a night to ruin over his jealousy.

Negan smirks evilly. “I could always just have Philip fire her.”

Carl can’t help but laugh at his cocky response. “You’re insane,” he snorts.

“Only when it comes to you,” Negan says and pulls onto the street.

~O~

“I love coming home!” Carl proclaims with a squeal as they walk into the apartment, only to then realize it’s freezing. “Except when you turn the heat off.” Carl shivers and Negan chuckles.

“I still haven’t figured that thing out yet; it’s too high-tech.”

As Negan tries to figure out the thermostat, Carl grabs a blanket off the bed and two from the closet and drop them in a heap on the couch, then go back to the bedroom.

Negan follows him in, looking frustrated from his handyman moment.

Carl takes off his clothes and drops them on the floor. Carl finds that the concrete floor is freezing as well. Hurrying to the dresser, Carl grabs the warmest pajamas he can find.

“Here, let me give you something,” Negan says and walks to the closet, pulling out a gray hooded sweatshirt.

“Thanks.” Carl smiles. He doesn't know what it is about being in Negan’s clothes that he loves so much; it’s almost as if wearing them brings them closer.

Negan seems to like when Carl wear his clothes, too. Negan watches Carl slip the sweatshirt over his head with lustful eyes. Carl notices him struggling to get the tie off and he pads over to help him. Negan watches him silently as Carl pulls the thin fabric from around his neck and set it aside before grabbing a pair of thick, fuzzy, purple socks that his father got him for Christmas last year.

It dawns on him that Christmas is only three weeks away, and Carl starts to wonder if his father will still want him to come home. Carl hasn't been home since he left for college.

“What are those?” Negan chuckles and flicks the balls of fur at the top of Carl’s ankle.

“Socks. Warm socks, to be exact.” Carl sticks his tongue out.

“Nice,” Negan teases, then changes into sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

By the time they get back to the living room, the apartment has warmed up somewhat. Negan turns the television on and lies on the couch, pulling Carl onto his chest and encasing us in the mound of blankets.

“I was wondering what you were doing for Christmas,” Carl says nervously. He doesn't know why he feels shy asking him about this when they already live together.

“Oh well, I was going to wait until next week to bring it up, with everything being so chaotic over the last week, but since you did . . .” Negan smiles, his face holding the same nervousness that Carl feels. “I’m going to go home for the holiday, and I would like it if you would come with me.”

“Home?” Carl squeaks.

“To South Carolina . . . to my mother’s house.” Negan looks a little sheepish as he hedges, “I get it if you don’t want to. I know it’s a lot to ask, and you’ve already moved in with me.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just . . . I don’t know . . .” The idea of going to another state with Negan is thrilling, but terrifying. Carl has never even left Georgia.

“You don’t have to answer me tonight, but let me know soon, okay? I will be leaving on the twentieth,” Negan explains.

“That’s the day after my birthday,” Carl tells him.

Negan moves suddenly and lifts his head up. “Your birthday? Why didn’t you tell me it was so soon?”

Carl shrugs a little. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it, I guess. Birthdays aren’t really a big deal to me. My mother used to go all-out on my birthdays, making each one special, but… you know what happened.”

“Well, what would you like to do for your birthday?”

“Nothing. Maybe we can go to dinner?” Carl doesn't want to make a big deal out of it.

“Dinner . . . I don’t know,” Negan teases. “A bit extravagant, isn’t it?”

Carl laughs and Negan kisses his forehead. Carl forces him to watch the new episode of Criminal Minds and they end up falling asleep on the couch pretty quickly.

Carl wakes up sweating in the middle of the night. Lifting himself off Hardin, he peels off the sweatshirt and goes over to turn the heat down when a small blue light blinking on Negan’s phone piques his curiosity. He picks the phone up off the counter and swipes his finger across. Three new messages.

_Put the phone down, Carl._

Carl has no reason to go through his phone; that’s insane. Carl sets it down and walks back toward the couch, only to be stopped by the vibration of another text message arriving.

Just one. Carl will only glance at one. That’s not so crazy, right? He knows it’s insane to be looking through Negan’s messages, but he can’t seem to stop himself.

*Call me back dick, the message reads. Merle’s name covers the top of the small screen.

Yup, reading that was a terrible idea. It didn’t get Carl anywhere at all, and now he feels guilty for going through Negan’s phone like a crazy person but why is Merle texting Negan, anyway?

“Carl?” Nega’s voice croaks, causing him to jump, and the phone slips out of his grasp. It falls to the floor with a crack.

“What was that? What are you doing?” Negan asks through the dark room, the only light being cast from the television.

“Your phone went off and I grabbed it,” Carl half-lies and scrambles on the floor to pick up the phone. The screen now has a small crack along the side. “And I cracked the screen,” he adds.

Negan groans wearily. “Just come back to bed.”

Carl sets the phone down and lies back on the couch with him. But he doesn't fall asleep for a long while.

~O~

The next morning, Carl wakes up to Negan trying to move out from under him. Carl shifts against the back of the couch to let him get up, and he grabs his phone off the counter before going to the bathroom. Carl hopes Negan isn’t too pissed about him breaking his screen. If Carl wouldn’t have been so nosy, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. He pulls himself off the couch and makes a pot of coffee.

Negan’s proposal of going to South Carolina with him keeps running through his mind. They have already progressed so quickly in their relationship by moving in together at such a young age. Still, Carl would love to meet Negan’s mother and see South Carolina with Negan.

“Deep in thought?” Negan’s voice interrupts him as he comes into the kitchen.

“No, well, sort of.” Carl chuckles.

“About?”

“Christmas.”

“What about it? You can’t figure out what to get me?”

“I think I’m going to call my father and see if he would have even invited me for Christmas. I feel bad not at least seeing first, you know. I would like to see Michonne if anything else.”

Negan doesn’t look thrilled, but he stays calm. “I understand.”

“I’m sorry about your phone.”

“It’s fine,” Negan says and sits at the kitchen table.

But then Carl blurts out, “I read a text message from Merle.” He doesn't want to hide things from him, no matter how embarrassing the confessions are.

“You what?”

“It vibrated and I looked at it. Why was he texting so late, anyway?”

“What did you read?” Negan asks, ignoring Carl’s question.

“A text from Merle,” Carl repeats.

His jaw clenches. “What did it say?”

“Just to call him back?” Why is he getting so worked up? Carl knew Negan wouldn’t exactly be happy that he looked at his text message, but this is an overreaction.

“That’s it?” Negan snaps, which starts to get Carl annoyed.

“Yes, Negan—what else would it have said?”

“Nothing!” Negan takes a slow sip of coffee, like it’s all suddenly no big deal. “I just don’t like you going through my stuff.”

“Okay, well, I won’t do it again.”

“Good. I have a few things to do today, so can you keep yourself busy for a while?”

“What do you have to do?” Carl asks and instantly regrets it.

“Fucking fuck, Carl,” he says loudly. “Why are you always on my case!”

“I’m not always on your case. I just wanted to know what you were doing. We are in a relationship, Negan—a pretty serious one, at that—so why wouldn’t I ask where you’re going?”

Negan pushes his mug away and stands up. “You just don’t know when to let shit go, is your problem. I don’t have to tell you everything, whether we are living together or not! If I would have known you were going to start shit with me today, I would have left before you even woke up.”

“Wow!” is all Carl can say before he storms off to the bedroom.

But Negan’s hot on Carl’s heels. “Wow what?”

“I should have known that yesterday was too good to be true.”

“Excuse me?” Negan scoffs.

“We had such a great time; you weren’t an asshole, for once, but you wake up today and bam! You’re back to being a jerk!” Carl scrambles around the room picking up Negan’s dirty clothes.

“You forgot the part where you went through my phone.”

“Okay, and I’m sorry for doing that, but it’s honestly not that big of a deal. If there is something on there that you don’t want me to see, then there is a bigger problem here!” Carl yells and shoves everything into the hamper.

Negan points an angry finger at him. “No, Carl, you’re the problem. You’re always making something out of nothing!”

“Why did you fight Dwight?” Carl counters, not forgetting about that.

“We aren’t doing this right now,” Negan says in a cool tone.

“Then when, Negan? Why won’t you tell me? How am I supposed to trust you if you are keeping things from me? Does this have to do with Merle?” Carl asks and Negan’s nostrils flare.

Negan runs his hands over his face and then up through his hair, leaving it sticking straight up. “I don’t know why you can never just mind your own damn business,” Negan grumbles and walks off.

Seconds later Carl hears the front door slam and he wipes the angry tears from his cheeks. Negan’s reaction to him asking about Jace is gnawing at his stomach the entire time Carl cleans the apartment. Negan overreacted; there is something he isn’t telling him, and Carl doesn't understand why. He’s fairly certain it has nothing to do with him, but it just doesn’t make sense why Negan got so worked up. Carl has known since the moment he met Merle that he was trouble. If Negan isn’t going to give him answers, Carl will have to go another route. He looks out the window and watches as Negan’s car pulls out of the parking lot before grabbing his phone. His new source answers on the first ring.

“Dwight? It’s Carl,” he says.

“Yeah? I know.”

“Okay, well, I was wondering if I could ask you something?” Carl’s voice comes out smaller than he intended it to.

“Um. Where is Negan?” Dwight asks, and, given his tone, Carl suspects he holds a small grudge against him for blowing him off after he was so kind to him.

“He isn’t here.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea—”

“Why did Negan fight you?” Carl asks before Dwight finishes.

“I’m sorry, Carl, I gotta go,” Dwight says and the call ends.

What the hell? Carl hasn't been one hundred percent sure he would tell him, but that wasn’t the reaction he was expecting, either. His curiosity is now piqued more than before and his annoyance is as high as ever.

Carl tries to call Negan again, but of course he doesn’t answer. Why would Dwight act that way? Like he was almost afraid to tell him? Maybe Carl was wrong and this does have to do with him? Carl doesn't know what’s going on, but none of this makes sense. He takes a step back and reevaluates the situation. Is he overreacting? Negan’s frantic expression when Carl asked about Merle replays in his head, and he’s sure he’s not misreading this.

Carl takes a shower to tries to calm his nerves and settle his mind, but it doesn’t work; this feeling in the pit of his stomach pushes him to come up with another option. When he gets out of the shower, fixes his hair and gets himself dressed while he decides what to do next.

All he’s going to do is find Beth and ask her if she knows why Negan and Dwight got into a fight, then see what she knows about Merle. The only thing that makes this plan crazy is that Negan will lose it when he finds out that Carl called Dwight and went to Beth.

Now that he thinks about it, Negan hasn’t taken him around any of his friends since they moved in together—making it likely none of them actually know about their new living arrangement.

  
~O~

By the time Carl leaves the apartment, his thoughts are jumbled and he ends up leaving his phone on the counter. It begins to snow as soon as he pulls onto the freeway, so it takes him over thirty minutes to get to the dorms. They look the same as he remembers—of course they do. It has been only a week since he left them, even though it seems so much longer.

Marching up the hallway, he ignores the rude stare from the bleach blonde who yelled at Negan for spilling vodka outside her door. That first night that Negan stayed in his dorm with him seems so distant; time hasn’t made sense since Carl met him. When he knocks on his old door, there’s no answer. Of course Noah isn’t here; he’s never here. He spends the majority of her his at Beth and Simon’s apartment, and he has no idea where that is. Even if he did, would he go there?

Carl gets into his car and tries to formulate a new plan while he drives around. This might have been easier if he hadn’t forgotten his phone, but just as he’s about to give up on his radical decision to practically stalk his old roommate, he passes Blind Bob’s, the biker bar he went to with Noah. Recognizing Simon’s car in the lot, he pulls in. He takes a deep breath before getting out, and when he finally does, the cold air burns his nostrils. The woman at the front smiles at him when he enters, and he’s relieved when he spots Beth’s blonde hair from across the room.

If only Carl had known what was to come.

~O~

Nervousness overtakes him as he walks through the smoky bar. Why did he think this was a good idea? Negan is going to be furious with him, and Noah and Beth may just think he’s insane.

When Beth sees him, a big smile fills Beth’s face and she practically shouts, “Carl m, what the hell are you doing here?” before pulling him into a hug.

“I, well, I was looking for you,” Carl says.

“Is everything okay? Or did you just miss me?” She laughs.

“I just missed you.” He decides to go with that for now.

“I haven’t seen you in ages, Carl,” Simon teases and then hugs him. “Where has Negan been hiding you?”

Noah appears behind Beth, waves at him and wraps his arms around her waist. By the way she leans back against him, Carl knows they have worked through the fight over Sherry.

She smiles. “Come sit with us—it’s just us for now.”

For now? Carl wonders if she means that Negan will be here soon? Carl follows the three of them to a booth, dreading the answer to that question. A question he chooses not to ask, and instead orders a burger and fries. He hasn't eaten all day and it’s past three in the afternoon.

“And I’ll make sure there is no pickles,” the waitress says with a knowing smile and walks back to the kitchen. Clearly she remembers the scene Negan made the last time he was here.

Carl stares his hands, waiting for his Coke.

“You missed one hell of a party last night, Carl,” Simon says. He lifts his glass and gulps down the remainder of his beer.

“Yeah?” Carl smiles. The most frustrating part of his relationship with Negan is that he is never know what he’s allowed to tell people. If he were in a normal relationship, he would respond with “Oh yeah, we had a great time last night at his father’s wedding.” But since his relationship is far from normal, he stays quiet.

“Yeah, it was wild. We went out to the docks instead of the frat house.” Simon laughs. “We get away with more at the docks and we don’t have to clean up after.”

“Oh. Does Merle live at the docks?” Carl tries to keep his tone neutral.

“What? No, the docks are boat docks. He works there during the day, though. He lives close by them.”

“Oh.” Carl chews on his straw.

“It was freezing, and Noah here was plastered and jumped into the cold-ass water.” Beth snorts, and Noah flips her off playfully.

“It wasn’t too bad; my body was numb the second I hit the water,” Noah jokes.

Carl’s food arrives along with Noah’s wings and a round of beers for the three of them.

“You sure you don’t want a beer? She won’t card you,” Simon tells him.

“Oh, no, I have to drive. Thanks, though.”

“So how’s your new dorm?” Noah asks and steals a fry from his plate.

“My what?”

“Your new dorm?” He repeats slowly.

“I don’t have a new dorm.” Did Negan tell him he moved into another dorm?

“Uh, yeah, you do, because you don’t live in mine anymore. All of your stuff was gone and Negan said you changed dorms, that your father flipped out on you or something.” Noah takes a big swig from his beer.

Carl decides that he doesn't care how pissed Negan gets at him—he’s not going to lie. He’s infuriated and embarrassed that Negan is still hiding their relationship. “Negan and I moved into an apartment,” Carl tells them.

“What?” Beth, Simon, and Noah say at the same time.

“Yes, last week. We moved in together about twenty minutes from campus,” Carl explains. All three of them are looking at him as if he has grown a second head.

“What?” Carl asks harshly.

“Nothing. It’s just . . . wow . . . I don’t know. That’s just a really huge surprise,” Beth says.

“Why?” Carl snaps. He knows it isn’t fair to direct his anger toward her when it’s meant for Negan, but he can’t help it.

She frowns and looks like she’s pondering something. “I don’t know; I just can’t picture Negan living with someone, that’s all. I didn’t know you two were that serious. I wish you would have told me.”

As Carl is about to ask her what she means by that, Simon’s and Noah’s eyes dart to the door, then back to him. When Carl turns around, he sees Sherry, Negan, and Nere standing in the doorway. Negan shakes some rain from his hair and wipes his boots on the straw mat. Carl turns around quickly, his heart beating out of his chest. There are too many things going on at once: Sherry is with Negan, which pisses him off beyond words. Merle is with Negan, which confuses the hell out of him. And Carl just told everyone that they moved in together, which they seem unsettled by.

“Carl.” Negan’s voice is angry from behind him.

Carl looks up at him, and Negan’s face is twisted in anger. He is trying to control it, Carl can tell, but it’s about to boil over. “I need to talk to you,” Negan says through clenched teeth.

“Right now?” Carl says, trying to sound casual but hard-edged.

“Yes. Now,” Negan answers and reaches out to grab his arm. Carl quickly climbs out of the booth and follows him to the corner of the small bar. “What the hell are you doing here?” Negan says quietly, his face inches from Carl’s.

“I came to hang out with Noah and Beth.” Not exactly a lie, but not the truth, either.

Negan calls him out. “Bullshit.” He is struggling to keep his voice down, but they’ve already drawn the attention of more than a few patrons. “You need to go,” Negan tells him.

“Excuse me?” Carl retorts, stealing one of his famous lines.

“You need to go home.”

“Home where? Back to my new dorm?” Carl challenges. The color drains from Negan’s face. “Yup, I told them. I told them that we live together—how could you not? Do you know how stupid that makes me look? I thought we were past you trying to keep me a secret.”

“I wasn’t . . .” Negan lies.

“I am sick of the secrets and deception, Negan. Every time I think we are doing so great—”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret. I was just waiting.” Negan’s thoughts seem jumbled. Carl can almost see the internal battle being waged behind Negan’s hazel eyes. Negan’s eyes frantically scan the room, and his panic worries Carl. Negan looks like he might have a heart attack.

“I can’t keep doing this—you know that, don’t you?” Carl tells him.

“Yeah, I know.” Negan sighs and pulls his lip between his teeth and runs his hand through his damp hair. “Can we go home and talk about this?” Negan asks and Carl nods.

Carl follows him back to the booths where everyone is seated. “We are going to go,” Negan announces.

Merle gives a sinister grin. “So soon?”

Negan’s shoulders tense. “Yeah,” he answers.

“Back to your apartment?” Beth asks, and Carl shoots a glare at her. Not now, he silently screams at her.

“Your what?” Sherry cackles. Carl could have gone the rest of his life without seeing her again, really.

“Their apartment; they live together,” Beth says in a singsong voice. Carl knows she is only trying to shove it down Sherry’s throat, and usually he would applaud her for it, but he’s too angry at Negan to focus on Sherry.

“Well, well, well.” Sherry taps her long crimson nails on the table. “That’s very interesting,” she says, staring at Negan.

“Sherry . . .” Negan warns. Carl swears he sees panic flash across his face. Negan is a few seconds away from turning blue and Carl can see Negan’s hands shaking.

She raises an eyebrow. “You’re really taking this whole thing a little far, aren’t you?”

“Sherry, I swear to God, if you don’t shut the fuck up—”

“What thing? What is he taking too far?” Carl can’t help but ask.

“Carl, go outside,” Negan commands, but Carl ignores him.

“No, what is he taking too far? Tell me!” Carl yells.

“Wait. You’re in on it, aren’t you?” Sherry laughs and continues, “I knew it! I told Merle you knew, but he wouldn’t believe me. Negan, you owe Dwight some big bucks for this.” She throws her head back and stands up.

Negan’s face is completely pale; all the blood seems to be drained from his entire body. Carl’s head is swimming and he’s so confused. He briefly glances at Simon, Noah (who looks just as confused), and Beth, but they are all focused on Negan.

“Knew what?” Carl’s voice is shaky. Negan grabs Carl’s arm and tries to pull him away, but Carl jerks out of his grip and moves over to stand in front of Sherry.

“Don’t play stupid with me, I know you know. What did he do? Split the money with you?” she asks.

Negan reaches for Carl’s hand, and his fingers are ice cold. “Carl . . .” Carl jerks away and stares at him, his eyes wide.

“Tell me! What is she talking about!” Carl yells to him. Tears threaten Carl’s eyes, and he struggles to keep down all the emotions storming through him.

Negan astounds him by opening his mouth and then closing it again.

“Oh my God, you really don’t know? Oh, this is amazing. Everyone pull up a seat!” Sherry mocks.

“Sherry, don’t,” Beth says.

“You sure you wanna know, Prince Charming?” Sherry continues, giving him a triumphant smile.

Carl can literally hear the blood pounding behind his ears, and for a second he wonders if everyone else can, too. “Tell me,” he demands.

She tilts her head slightly but then pauses. “No, I think Negan should tell him.” And she starts giggling.

  
Everything is happening too fast for him to comprehend. He’s confused, and when he looks around the room, he see that's he’s surrounded by people who have taunted him no matter hard he tried to fit in with them, and he knows that Noah must not know either by the way he is glaring at Beth.

What’s going on? Why is Negan just standing there? What’s happening?

“I second that,” Merle chimes in and lifts his beer in salute. “Go on, Negan, tell him.”

“I . . . I will tell you outside,” Negan says, his voice low.

Carl looks into his brilliant eyes, which seem wild with desperation and confusion. He doesn't know what is going on, but he does know he doesn't want to go anywhere with him.

“No, you tell me here. In front of them so you can’t lie.” Carl’s heart is already aching and he knows that he’s not prepared for whatever Negan is getting ready to tell him.

He pauses, fidgeting with his fingers before Negan speaks. “I’m sorry.” He holds his hands out in front of him. “Carl, you have to remember that this was way before I even knew you.” His eyes are begging for mercy.

Carl doesn't trust his voice, and he barley opens his mouth when he speaks. “Tell me.”

“That night . . . that second night . . . the second party you came to, when we played Truth or Dare . . . and Simon asked if you were a virgin . . .” Negan closes his eyes as if to gather his thoughts.

Oh no. If it was possible for Carl’s heart to sink even lower, it would have. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Not right now. Not to him.

“Go on,” Merle says and leans forward like this is the best thing he’s ever seen. Negan shoots him daggers, and Carl knows that if Negan weren’t in the middle of single-handedly destroying their relationship, he would kill that vile man on the spot.

“You said you were and that gave someone an idea—”

“Gave who the idea?” Sherry interrupts.

“Me . . . gave me the idea,” Negan admits. His eyes never leave Carl’s. Which doesn’t make this any easier. “That . . . it could be fun to make . . . to make a bet.” His head falls, and tears pour from Carl’s eyes.

“No,” Carl chokes and takes a step backward.

Confusion rams into Carl’s already-jumbled thoughts, disrupting any attempt to make sense of them, to make sense of what he’s hearing. Confusion is quickly replaced by a burning mixture of pain and anger. All of the memories flooding through him pile and piece together.

“Stay away from him.” “Be careful.” “Sometimes you think you know people, but you don’t.” “But Carl, I need to tell you something.”

All of the small remarks that were made by Sherry, Merle, and even Negan himself play over and over. There was always something in the back of his mind, a feeling that Carl was missing something. All of the air seems to be sucked out of the small room, and he finds himself almost gasping as the reality of all this sets in. There were so many clues; he just was too blinded by Negan to see them.

Why would he take it this far? To have Carl live with him?

“You knew?” Carl turns to Beth. He can’t look at Negan any longer. Noah is staring at Beth too, waiting.

“I . . . I was going to tell you so many times, Car,” she says, her eyes brimming with guilty tears. Noah moves away from her in disbelief and stares at Carl in shock.

“I didn’t believe it when he claimed he won, even with the condom,” Merle snickers, enjoying the show.

“Right? Me, either! The sheets, though. I mean, how can you deny the sheets you guys fucked it! Wow! NEGAN WENT ALL OUT!” Sherry laughs.

The sheets. That’s why they were still in his car.

Carl knows he should be saying something, anything, but he can’t find his voice. Everything is still moving around him; people in the bar are eating and drinking, not noticing the naïve boy ten feet away from them having his heart shattered. How is it possible that time still moves as Carl stands here watching Noah shake his head in disgust, watching Beth cry, and, most of all, watching Negan watch him.

“Carl, I’m so sorry.” Negan takes a step toward him, but he can’t even move his feet to run away like he needs to.

Sherry’s harpy voice breaks through the air. “You know, there is a sort of drama here that everyone has to appreciate. I mean, remember last time we were all here and Beth gave Carl that ridiculous makeover, and Negan and Dwight were trying to battle over who took her back to her room?” She laughs, then continues: “Then Negan showed up to your room, right? With that vodka! You thought he was drunk! Do you remember when I called him when he was there?” For a moment she looks at Carl like she actually expects he’ll answer her. “But really he was supposed to win the bet that night. He was pretty cocky about it, but Dwight kept saying you wouldn’t give it up that quick. I guess Dwight was right, but you still gave it up quicker than I thought you would, so I suppose it’s a good thing I didn’t bet any money.”

Sherry’s terrible sounds and Negan’s eyes are the only thing in the bar.

Carl has never felt this way before. This level of humiliation and loss is worse than he could ever have imagined. Negan has been playing him this entire time; this was all a game to him. All the hugs, the kisses, the smiles, the laughs, the “I love you’s,” the sex, the plans—and fuck if this doesn’t burn like nothing else in the world. Negan had every move planned, every night, every single detail, and everyone knew except him. Even Beth, who ge thought was a friend. He glances at Negan, allowing himself a moment of weakness during the shock, and he wishes he hadn’t. Negan’s just standing there—standing there like Carl’s entire world isn’t crashing around him and he hasn’t completely humiliated him in front of everyone.

“You’d be happy to know that you were worth a pretty penny, though, even though Dwight tried to bitch out a few times. But with Merle, Tara, and Dwight’s money, I hope he at least bought you dinner!” Sherry says, laughing.

Merle finishes his beer and howls. “I’m only disappointed that I missed the infamous I Love You! announcement in front of everyone. I heard that was a killer.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Noah surprises everyone by yelling. If Carl wasn’t numb, he may have surprised him, too. “Fuck you guys. He has already had enough!”

Negan takes another step. “Baby, please say something.”

And with his little “baby” plea, Carl’s brain finally connects with his mouth. “Don’t you fucking dare call me that! How could you do this to me? You . . . you . . . I can’t . . .” He has so many things in his head to say, but they just won’t come out. “And I won’t say anything, because that’s what you want.” Carl sounds much more confident than he feels inside. Inside he’s burning, and his heart is on the floor, underneath Negan’s boot.

“I know I messed up—” Negan begins.

“You messed up? You messed up?” Carl screams. “Why? Just tell me why. Why me?”

“Because you were there,” Negan says. And his honesty only breaks Carl further. “And a challenge. I didn’t know you, Carl. I didn’t know that I would fall in love with you.”

His mention of love carries with it the opposite feeling than it has the past few weeks, and Carl can taste the bile in the back of his throat. “You’re sick. You’re fucking sick!” He screams and rushes to the door.

This is too much for him. Negan’s hand wraps around Carl’s arm and Carl jerks away, turning and punching him. Hard.

The pain in Negan’s expression as he fumbles back in shock gives Carl the most painful satisfaction.

“You ruined everything!” Carl screams. “You took something from me that wasn’t yours, Negan. That was meant for someone who loved me, loved me truthfully. It was his, whoever he is, and you took that—for money? I ruined my relationship with my father for you. I gave up everything! I had someone who loved me, someone who wouldn’t hurt me the way you did. _You are disgusting_.”

“I do love you, Carl. I love you more than anything. I was going to tell you. I tried to get them not to tell you. I never wanted you to find out. That’s why I was out all night, getting them to agree not to say anything. I was going to tell you soon, now that we live together, because then it wouldn’t matter.”

Carl has no control over the words tumbling from his lips. “Are you . . . you . . . what the fuck, Negan! What the hell is wrong with you? You think going around convincing people to not tell me is okay? The fact that I wouldn’t know would make it all okay? You thought that if we lived together, I would let this go? That’s why you were so determined for my name to be on the lease! Oh my God. You are sick!”

Every small detail that made Carl thinks twice since he met Negan all points to this. It was so obvious. “That’s why you went and got my stuff for me from my room, because you were afraid Beth would tell me!”

Everyone in the bar is staring and Carl feels so small, so broken and small.

“What did you do with the money, Negan?”

“I—” Negan begins, then stops.

“Tell me,” Carl demands.

“Your car, the paint, and the deposit for the apartment. I thought if I was going to tell you so many times, once I knew it wasn’t just a bet anymore. I love you—I loved you the entire time, I swear it,” Negan says.

“You kept the condom to show them, Negan! You showed them the sheets, the fucking sheets I lost my virginity on!” Carl wraps his hands in his hair and tugs at it. “Oh my God! I’m such an idiot. While I was reliving every detail of the best night of my life, you were showing your friends the sheets.”

“I know . . . I don’t have any excuse . . . but you have to forgive me. We can figure this out,” Negan says.

And Carl laughs. A real laugh. Despite his tears, he finds himself laughing; he’s losing his mind. This scene isn’t playing out like in the movies. He’s not holding himself together. He’s not handling the news elegantly with a simple gasp or a single tear trailing down his cheek. Carl is crying, pulling at his own hair, and us barely able to control his emotions and form a full sentence.

“Forgive you?” Carl laughs madly. “You have ruined my entire life—you know that, don’t you? Oh, of course you do. That was your plan the entire time, remember? You promised you would ‘ruin me.’ So congratulations, Negan, you have. What should I give you, money? Or should I find another virgin for you?”

Negan shifts a little, as if to block out Carl’s view of the others at the table. “Carl, please. You know I love you, I know you do. Let’s go home, please, and I will tell you everything.”

“Home? That isn’t my home. It never has been; we both know that.” Carl tries for the door again. He's so close.

“What can I do? I’ll do anything,” Negan begs. With Negan’s eyes still focused on his, Negan bends down. Carl’s confused for a second before he realizes Negan is getting on his knees in front of him. He's literally begging on his knees. If Carl emotions weren't all over the place, he would be stunned someone like Negan would be on his knees.

“You? Nothing. There is nothing you can do for me anymore, Negan.”

If Carl knew what to say to hurt him as badly as he has hurt him, he would. And Carl would repeat it a thousand times, just so Negan would know how it feels to be so completely blindsided and ripped apart.

Carl takes off for the door, taking advantage of Negan’s position on his knees. As soon as Carl reaches the door, he crashes into someone. He looks up to find Dwight, his battered face still recovering from the injuries that Negan caused.

“What’s wrong?” Dwight asks and grabs Carl’s elbows. Then his gaze travels behind him to Negan and realization fills his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Dwight says, but Carl ignores him. Negan is coming, and Carl has to get the hell away from this bar, from him.

The freezing air whips Carl’s hair in front of his face as soon as he gets outside. He welcomes the feeling, hoping it will cool the burning inside him. The rain is heavy and making a deafening sound on top of the concrete.

Dwight’s voice calls from behind him, “You can’t drive, Carl.” Carl keeps walking through the heavy downpour, across the parking lot.

“Leave me alone! I know you were in on it! You all were!” Carl screams and digs for his keys.

“Let me take you home—you are in no condition to drive in this storm,” Dwight says. As Carl opens his mouth to scream at him, Negan walks outside.

Carl looks at the person he once thought was the love of his life, who he thought would make every day after they met special, and wild, and free. And then he looks at Dwight.

“Okay,” Carl says.

The click of Dwight’s car being unlocked is his cue to get in as fast as he can. The second Negan realizes that he’s leaving with Dwight, he runs toward the car. Negan’s face twists in anger, and Carl hopes for Dwight’s sake he gets into the car before Negan reaches them.

Dwight jumps in and takes off. Carl looks over and watches Negan fall to his knees for the second time tonight.

“I’m so sorry, Carl. I had no idea it would get that out of hand—” Dwight starts, but Carl cuts him off.

“Don’t talk to me.”

Carl can’t stand to hear any more. He can’t take it. He’s sick to his stomach, and the pain of Negan’s betrayal is cutting at him, making him weaker and weaker by the moment. Carl’s convinced that if Dwight speaks, there will be nothing left of him. Carl needs to know why Negan did what he did, but he’s honestly terrified what will happen if he hears it, all of it. He hasn't felt pain like this before and he’s not sure how to handle it, or if he can at all. Dwight nods, and they drive in silence for a few minutes. Carl thinks of Negan, of Sherry, of Merle and the rest, and something in him shifts. Something makes him braver. “You know what?” Carl turns to him. “Do talk to me. Tell me everything. Every single detail.”

With worried eyes Dwight searches his face for a moment, and then, realizing he has no choice, says a quiet “Okay” as they turn onto the freeway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> should Carl forgive him?  
> How? Or why should he?  
> Five more chapters left!


	16. SIXTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not edited yet.

Negan can’t feel the icy concrete under him or the snow settling over. He can feel only the hole that was ripped through his chest. He’s kneeling helplessly, watching as Dwight pulls out of the parking lot with Carl in the passenger seat.

He couldn’t have imagined this—never in his wildest fucking dreams would he have thought that he’d feel this type of pain. The sting of loss, he’s heard it called. He hasn't had anything or anyone to cherish, never felt the need to have someone, to make them completely mine, he hasn’t wanted to hold on to someone so fiercely. The panic—the complete and utter fucking panic of losing him—wasn’t planned. None of this was. It was supposed to be easy: sleep with him, get his money and his bragging rights over Dwight. Pretty cut-and-dried. Only it didn’t happen that way. Instead, the brown-haired boy in the baggy pants who obsessively makes long to-do lists crept his way inside of Negan’s heart until, slowly, he fell for him so hard that he couldn’t believe it. He didn’t realize just how much he loved him until he was vomiting into a sink after showing his fucked-up friends the proof of the stolen virginity.

Negan hated it, hated every moment of it . . . but he didn’t stop.

He won the bet, but he lost the only thing that has ever made him happy. And along with that, he lost every ounce of goodness Carl made him see in himself. As the snow soaks into his clothes, he wants to blame his father for passing his addiction on to Negan; he wants to blame his mom for staying with him for too long and helping create such a fucked-up child; he wants to blame Carl for ever speaking to him. Hell, he wants to blame everyone.

But he can’t. He did this. He ruined him and everything they had.

But he’ll do whatever it takes to make up for his mistakes.

Where is Carl going now? Is it someplace where he’ll ever find him?

~O~

“It took longer than a month,” Carl says as Dwight finishes explaining how the bet came to be made. Carl feel sick to his stomach, and he closes his eyes to get some relief.

“I know. He kept coming up with excuses and he kept asking for more time and he’d lower the amount he was supposed to get. It was weird. We all just thought he was obsessed with winning—like to prove a point or something—but now I get it.” Dwight stops talking for a second, and his eyes scan Carl’s face. “It was all he talked about. Then, that day when I invited you to the movies, he flipped out. After he dropped you back off, he totally flipped shit on me and said I had to stay away from you. But I just laughed it off, because I thought he was drunk.”

“Did he . . . did he tell you about the stream? And the . . . other stuff?” Carl holds his breath as he asks. The pity in Dwight’s eyes is his answer. “Fuck.” He puts his hands over his face.

“He told us everything . . . I mean everything . . .” he says in a low voice.

Carl stays quiet and turns off his phone. It hasn’t stopped vibrating since he left the bar. Negan has no right to be calling him.

“Where’s your new dorm?” Dwight asks, and Carl notices they’re near campus.

“I don’t live in a dorm. Negan and I . . .” Carl can barely finish his sentence. “He convinced me to move in with him, just a week ago.”

“He didn’t,” Dwight gasps.

“He did. He’s so beyond . . . he’s j-just . . .” Carl stutters, unable to come up with a fitting word for his cruelty.

“I didn’t know it was going this far. I thought once we saw the . . . you know, the proof . . . he’d be back to normal, seeing a different person every night. But then he disappeared. He’s barely come around us at all, except the other night he showed up at the docks and was trying to get Merle and me to agree not to tell you. He offered Merle a shitload of money to keep quiet.”

“Money?” Carl says. Negan couldn’t be lower. The space inside Dwight’s truck grows smaller with each sickening revelation.

“Yeah. Merle laughed it off, of course, and told Negan he would keep his mouth shut.”

“And you didn’t?” Carl asks, remembering Negan’s busted knuckles and Dwight’s face.

“Not exactly . . . I told him that if he didn’t tell you soon, I would. He didn’t like that idea, obviously,” he says, and waves at his face. “If it makes you feel any better, I do think he cares about you.”

“He doesn’t. And if he does, it doesn’t matter,” Carl says flatly, and lays his head against the window.

Every kiss and touch have been shared among Negan’s friends, every moment on display. His most intimate moments. His only intimate moments aren’t his at all.

“Do you want to come back to my place? I don’t mean that in a pushy or creepy way. I just have a couch you could stay on until you . . . figure things out,” he offers.

“No. Can I use your phone? I need to call Enid.”

Dwight nods at the phone resting on the console, and for a moment Carl’s mind wanders to thoughts of how things would be different if he hadn’t blown Dwight off for Negan after the bonfire. He would never have made all of these mistakes.

Enid answers on the second ring, and just like Carl knew she would, she tells him to come right over. Granted, Carl hasn't told her what’s up, but she’s just so kind. He gives Dwight Enid’s address, and he stays quiet for most of the drive across town.

“He’s so going to come after me for taking you anywhere but to him,” he finally says.

“I would apologize for being in the middle of this . . . but you guys did this to yourselves,” Carl says honestly. He does pity Dwight slightly, because he believes Dwight had much better intentions than Negan did, but his wounds are too fresh to even think about that right now.

“I know.”

“If you need anything, call me,” he offers, and Carl nods before climbing out of the car.

He can see his breath coming out in front of his face in hot spurts through the cold air. He can’t feel the cold, though. He can’t feel anything.

Enid is his only friend, but she happens to be Negan’s adopted sister. The irony of this is not lost on him.

“It’s really coming down out there,” Enid says as she rushes him inside. “Where’s your coat?” She scolds playfully, then flinches when Carl steps into the light. “What happened? What did he do?”

Carl’s eyes scan the room, hoping that Hershel and Charlotte aren’t downstairs. “That obvious, huh?”

Enid pulls him into her arms, and Carl rubs his eyes again. He doesn't cry, he can't anyways. He’s beyond that, so far beyond it.

Enid gets him a glass of water and says, “Go up to your room.”

Carl manages to smile, but some perverse instinct leads him to Negan’s door when he reaches the top of the stairs. When he realizes it, the pain that is so close to breaking back through stirs even more forcefully, so he quickly turns and goes into the room across the hall. Memories of running across the hall to Negan that night he heard him screaming in his sleep burn within him as he opens the door. He sits awkwardly on the bed in “his room,” unsure what to do next.

Enid joins him a few minutes later. Sitting next to him, she’s close enough to show concern, yet far enough to be respectful, as is her way.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks kindly.

He nods. Even though repeating the whole saga hurts worse than finding out about it in the first place, telling Enid feels almost liberating, and it’s a comfort to know that at least one person didn’t actually know about his humiliation the entire time.

Listening to him, Enid is as still as stone, to the point that he can’t read what she’s thinking. He wants to know what this makes him think of her brother. Of him. But when he finishes, she immediately jumps up with an angry energy.

“I can’t believe him! What the hell is wrong with him! Here I thought he was becoming almost . . . decent . . . and he does—this! This is so messed up! I can’t believe he would do this to you, of all people. Why would he ruin the only thing he has?”

As soon as Enid finishes speaking, his head snaps to the side.

And then he, too, notices it: footsteps rushing up the staircase. Not just footsteps, but heavy boots slamming against the wooden steps in a frenzy.

“He’s here,” they both say, and for a split second Carl actually considers hiding in the closet.

Enid looks at him with a very adult seriousness on her face. “Do you want to see him?”

  
Carl shakes his head, and Enid moves to close the door just as Negan’s voice slices right through him.

“Carl!”

Just as Enid reaches out her arm, Negan bursts through the doorway and blows past her. He stops in the middle of the room, and Carl stands up off the bed. Not used to this sort of thing, Enid stands there, stunned for a moment.

“Carl, thank fuck. Thank fuck you’re here.” He sighs and runs his hands over his hair.

Carl’s chest aches at the sight of him and he looks away, focusing on the wall.

“Carl, baby. I need you to listen to me. Please, just . . .”

Carl stays silent and walks toward him. Negan’s eyes light with hope and he reaches out for him, but when Carl continues past him, he catches the hope extinguishing in Negan.

Good.

“Talk to me,” Negan begs.

But Carl shakes his head and stands next to Enid. “No—I don't want to speak to you ever again,” he says emotionless.

“You don’t mean that . . .” Negan steps closer.

“Get away from me,” Carl warns, as Negan tries to grab his arm.

Enid steps between them and puts her arm on Negan’s shoulder. “Negan, you need to go.”

Negan’s jaw clenches and he looks back and forth between them. “Enid, you need to get the fuck out of the way,” he warns.

But Enid stands her ground, and Negan looks seconds away from snapping.

Seeming to have decided against it, Negan takes a deep breath. “Please . . . give us a minute,” he says, trying to keep his calm.

Enid looks at Carl and his blue eyes tell her no. She turns back to Negan. “He doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Don’t you fucking tell me what he wants!” Negan screams and his fist connects with the wall, cracking and denting the drywall.

Carl sighs, Negan is more fucked up than he thought. Not now, not now, he silently repeats to try to manage his angry.

“Go, Negan!” Enid shouts just as Hershel and Charlotte appear at the doorway.

Oh no. Carl shouldn’t have come here.

“What the hell is going on?” Hershel asks.

No one says anything. Charlotte looks at Carl with sympathy, and Hershel repeats his question.

Negan glares at his father. “I’m trying to talk to Carl, and Enid won’t mind her own damn business!”

Hershel looks at Enid, then at Carl. “What did you do, Negan?” His tone has changed from worried to . . . angry?

“Nothing! Fuck!” Negan throws his hands in the air.

“He messed everything up, is what he did, and now Carl has nowhere to go,” Enid states.

Carl wants to speak; he just has no idea what to say.

“He has somewhere to go, he can go home. Where he belongs . . . with me,” Negan says.

“Negan has been playing Carl this entire time—Negan did unspeakable things to him!” Enid blurts out, and Charlotte lets out a gasp, stepping over to him.

Carl wants to die. He’s never felt so naked and small. He didn’t want Hershel and Charlotte to know . . . but it may not make much of a difference, since after tonight they surely won’t really want to see him again.

“Do you want to go with him?” Hershel asks, interrupting Carl’s black and emotionless, world.

Carl just shakes his head. He wishes he could commit murder and get away with it.

“Well, I’m not leaving here without you,” Negan snaps. Negan steps toward him, but Carl cringes away in disgust.

“I think you need to go, Negan,” Hershel surprises him by saying.

“Excuse me?” Negan’s face is a deep shade of red that expresses what Carl can only describe as rage. He would laugh if he could. “You’re lucky I even come here to your house—and you dare to kick me out?”

“I’ve been very happy with how our relationship has grown, son, but tonight you have to go.”

Negan throws his hands into the air. “This is bullshit, who is he to you?”

Hershel turns to Carl, then back to his son. “Whatever you did to him, I hope it was worth losing the only good thing you had going for you,” he says and then drops his head.

Carl doesn't know if it was the shock of Hershel’s words, or just that he’d hit a point where all the rage peaked and flowed out of him, but Negan just stills, looks at Carl briefly, and marches out of the room. They all remain quiet while they listen to him walk down the stairs at a steady pace.

When the sound of the front door slamming cuts through the now-quiet house, Carl turns to Hershel and says, “I’m sorry. I’ll go. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“No, you stay as long as you need. You’re always welcome here,” Hershel says, and both him and Charlotte hug him.

“I didn’t mean to come between you,” Carl says, feeling terrible for the way Hershel had to kick his son out.

Charlotte grabs hold of his hand and gives it a squeeze. Hershel looks at him with exasperation and weariness. “Carl, I love Negan, but I think we both know that without you, there isn’t anything to come between,” he says.

~O~

Carl stayed in as long as he could, letting the water roll over him. He wanted it to clean him, reassure him somehow. But the hot shower didn’t help him relax like he had hoped. He can’t think of anything that’s going to calm the ache inside of him. It feels infinite. Permanent. Like an organism that’s come to live within him, but also like a hole growing steadily larger.

“I feel terrible about the wall. I offered to pay for it, but Hershel refuses to let me,” Carl tells Enid as he brushes out his wet hair.

“Don’t worry about that. You have a lot going on.” Enid frowns and rubs her hand across his back.

“I can’t comprehend how my life came to this, how I ever got to this point.” Carl stares ahead, not wanting to meet his best friend’s eyes. “Three months ago, everything made sense. I had Lydia, who would never do something like this. I was close with my father and I had this idea of how my life would be. And now I have nothing. Literally nothing. I don’t even know if I should go to my internship anymore because Negan will either go there, or he’ll convince Philip Blake to fire me just because he can.” He grabs the pillow on the bed and grips the material hard in his fist. “He had nothing to lose, but I did. I let him take everything from me. My life before him was so simple and decided. Now . . . after him . . . it’s just . . . after.”

Enid looks at him with wide eyes. “Carl, you can’t give up your internship; he’s taken enough from you. Don’t let him take that, please,” she practically pleads. “The good thing about this afterlife without him is that you can make it whatever you please, you can start all over.”

He know she’s right, but it isn’t that simple. Everything in his life is tied to Negan now, even the paint on his damn car. Negan somehow became the string that held everything in Carl’s life together, and in his absence Carl’s left with the rubble that once was his life.

When he relents and gives Enid a halfhearted nod, she smiles a little and says, “I’ll let you get some rest.” She hugs him and starts to leave.

“Do you think this will ever stop?” Carl asks, and she turns around.

“What?”

His voice almost a whisper: “The pain?”

“I don’t know . . . I’d like to think it will, though. Time heals . . . most wounds,” she answers and gives him her most comforting half smile, half frown.

Carl doesn't know if time will heal him or not. But he does know that if it doesn’t, he won’t survive.

 

~O~

With heavy-handed intent, yet enacted with her unfailing politeness, Enid forces him out of bed the next morning to make sure he doesn't miss his internship. He takes a moment to leave a note of thanks to Hershel and Charlotte, and to apologize again for the hole Negan put in their wall. Enid is quiet, and keeps looking over at him as she drives, trying to give him encouraging smiles and little slogans to remember. But he still feels terrible.

Memories begin to creep into his mind as we pull into the parking lot. Negan on his knees in the snow. Dwight’s explanation of the bet. Carl quickly unlocks his car, jumping inside to get away from the cold air. When he get into his car, he cringes at his reflection in the rearview. His eyes are still bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles. Bags have swollen up under them, completing the horror-movie look.

Going to Walmart, the only nearby store open at this hour, he buys everything he needs to mask his feelings. But he doesn't have the strength or the energy to make a real effort on his appearance, so he’s not sure he looks much better.

  
He puts on a large hat and likes how shaggy his hair looks under it.

Case in point: he arrives at The Governor's, and Andrea gasps when she sees him. He tries to muster a smile for her, but she jumps up from her desk.

“Carl, dear, are you okay?” she asks frantically.

“Do I look that bad?” He shrugs weakly.

“No, of course not,” she lies. “You just look . . .”

“Exhausted. Because I am. Finals took a lot out of me,” he tells her.

She nods and smiles warmly, but he can feel her eyes on his back the entire walk down the hall to his office. After that, his day drags on, no end in sight, it seems, until late morning, when Mr. Blake knocks at his door.

“Good afternoon, Carl,” he says with a smile.

“Good afternoon,” he manages.

“I just wanted to touch base with you and let you know how impressed I am with your work so far.” He chuckles. “You’re doing a better and more detailed job than many of my actual employees.”

“Thank you, that means a lot to me,” Carl says, and immediately the voice in his head reminds him that he only has this internship because of Negan.

“That being the case, I would like to invite you to the New York conference this coming weekend. Often these things are pretty boring, but it’s all about digital publishing, the ‘wave of the future’ and all that. You’ll meet a lot of people, learn some things. I’m opening a second branch in New York in a few months, and I need to meet a few people myself.” He laughs. “So what do you say? All expenses would be paid and we’ll leave Friday afternoon; Negan is more than welcome to come along. Not to the conference but to New York,” he explains with a knowing smile.

If only he really knew what was going on.

“Of course I would love to go. I really appreciate your invitation.” Carl tells him, unable to contain his enthusiasm and the immediate relief that, finally, something decent is happening to him.

“Great! I’ll have Andrea give you all the details, and explain how to expense things . . .” He rambles on, but Carl wanders off while he does.

The idea of going to the conference soothes his ache slightly. He will be farther away from Negan, but on the other hand, New York now reminds him of when Negan wanted to take me there. Negan has tainted every aspect of his life, including the entire state of New York, Georgia and South Carolina. He feels his office getting smaller, the air in the room getting thicker.

“Are you feeling okay?” Mr. Blake asks, his brow lowers in concern.

“Uh, yeah, I just . . . I haven’t eaten today and I didn’t sleep much last night,” Carl tells him.

“Go ahead and go home, then, you can finish what you’re doing at home,” he says.

“It’s okay—”

“No, go on home. There are no ambulances in graphic design. We’ll manage without you,” he assures him with a wave, then strolls off.

Carl gathers his things, checks his appearance in the bathroom mirror—yup, still pretty horrible—and am about to step into the elevator when Andrea calls his name.

“Going home?” she asks and he nods. “Well, Negan’s in a bad mood, so beware.”

“What? How do you know?”

“Because he just cussed me out for not transferring him to you.” She smiles. “Not even the tenth time he called. I figured if you wanted to talk to him, you would have on your cell.”

“Thank you,” he says, silently grateful she’s as observant as she is. Hearing Negan’s voice on the line would have made the aching hole in him grow that much more quickly.

He manages to make it to his car before breaking down again. The pain only seems to get worse when there are no distractions, when he’s left alone with his thoughts and memories. And, of course, when he sees the fifteen missed calls from Negan on his phone and a notice that he has ten new messages, which he won’t read.

After pulling himself together enough to drive, he does what he’s been dreading to do: call his step-mother.

She answers on the first ring. “Hello?”

“Mom,” Carl sobs. The word feels odd coming out of his mouth, but he needs the comfort of Michonne right now.

“Carl! Are you okay? What happened? Did your… friend do something to you? Do you need me to come get you?”

That this has been everyone’s reaction shows him just how obvious the danger of Negan was to everyone, and how oblivious he’s been.

“I . . . he . . .” He can’t form a sentence. “Can I come home, just for today?” He asks her.

“Of course, Carl! I’ll see you in two hours and I'll warn your father!” she says and hangs up.

Great. His father.

He wishes Rick was more like Hershel, loving and accepting of any flaw. He wishes Rick could just soften up, just long enough for him to feel the solace of having a father who understands and doesn't judge him.

Pulling onto the highway, he shuts his phone off before he does something stupid, like read any of those messages from Negan.

~O~

The drive to his childhood home is familiar and easy, requiring little thought on his part. He forces myself to let out every scream—literally, as in screaming as loud as he possibly can and until his throat is sore—before he arrives in his hometown. He finds this is actually much harder to do than he thought it would be, especially since he doesn't feel like yelling. He feels like crying and disappearing. He would give anything to rewind his life to his first day of college; he would have taken his father’s advice and changed rooms. If only he have known that Negan would take everything in Carl and spin it around, tearing him into tiny pieces before blowing on the pile and scattering him across the sky and beneath his friends’ heels.

He has only been two hours away from home this whole time, but with everything that’s happened, it feels so much farther. He hasn't been home since he started school. If he hadn’t broken up with Lydia, he would have been back many times. He forces his eyes to stay focused on the road as he passes his house.

He pulls into his parent’s driveway and practically jump outs of his car. But when he gets to the door, he’s not sure if he should knock. It feels strange to do so, but he doesn't feel comfortable just walking inside either. How can so much have changed since he left for college?

Carl decides to just walk inside, and he finds his father standing by the brown leather couch in full Sheriff’s uniform. Everything looks the same: clean and perfectly organized. The only difference is that it seems smaller, maybe because of his time at Hershel’s house. Well, his father’s house is definitely small and unappealing from the outside, but the inside is decorated nicely, and Michonne always did her best to mask the chaos of their lives with attractive paint and flowers and attention to cleanliness. The house is warm and the familiar smell of cinnamon fills Carl’s nostrils. He takes his shoes off at the door, knowing that Rick won’t want snow on his polished hardwood floors.

“Would you like some coffee, Carl?” Rick asks before hugging him.

Carl gets his coffee addiction from Lori, and this connection brings a small smile to his lips. “Yes, please.”

He follows Rick into the kitchen and sits at the small table, unsure how to begin the conversation.

“So are you going to tell me what happened?” Rick asks bluntly.

Carl takes a deep breath and a sip of his coffee before answering. “Negan and I broke up.”

Rick’s expression is neutral. “Why?”

“Well, he didn’t turn out to be who I thought he was,” Carl says. He wraps his hands around the scalding-hot cup of coffee in an attempt to distract himself from the pain and prepare himself for his father’s response.

“And who did you think he was?”

“Someone who loved me.” He’s not sure who he thought Negan was other than that, on his own, as a person.

“And now you don’t think he does?”

“No, I know he doesn’t.”

“What makes you so sure?” Rick asks coolly.

“Because I trusted him and he betrayed me, in a terrible way.” Carl knows he’s leaving out the details, but he still feels the strange need to protect Negan from his father’s judgment. He scold himself for being so stupid, for even considering Negan, when he clearly wouldn’t do the same for Carl.

“Don’t you think you should have thought about this possibility before deciding to live with him?”

“Yes, I know. Go ahead and tell me how stupid I am, tell me that you told me so,” Carl says.

“I did tell you, I warned you about guys like him. People like him, Shane and your mother are best to stay away from. I’m just glad it’s over with before it really even began. People make mistakes, Carl.” Rick takes a drink from his mug, sigh. “I’m sure she’ll forgive you.”

“Who?”

“Lydia, of course.”

How does Rick not get this? Carl just needs to talk to him, to have Rick comfort him—not push him to be with Lydia again. He stands up, looking at Rick, then around the room. Is he serious? He can’t be. “Just because things didn’t work out with Negan doesn’t mean I’m going to date Lydia again!” He snaps.

“I meant as friends, taking regularly.”

“Oh,” Carl sighs in relief. He actually does want to talk with Lydia on a regular basis again.“When’s Michonne coming home from work?”

“She should be-”

The front door promptly opens and closes. There's clicking of heels and in comes Michonne, looking exhaust yet perfect from her today of work. When she sees Carl, her eyes tear up and she greets him with a hug. Carl breathes in the scent of soap, honey and lipstick. He missed this. He missed her so much.

When they pull apart, Michonne sends him a smile and looks a Rick. She greets Rick with a kiss and whispers something into his ear.

Rick sighs and stands up. “I’ll go pick up a pizza, while you two… talk.” He sends Michonne, then Carl, a look before leaving.

Michonne doesn't say anything until she hears the front door close. She peels off her jacket and sits down at the table where Rick was sitting, taking a sip of his coffee. Carl follows suit.

“I messed up, Michonne,” He tells her. He feels ashamed suddenly. Michonne is the strongest person he knows and here he is, looking weak and foolish.

  
“Carl, have I ever told you the story about my college days?” she asks with a sad smile.

 

He shakes his head.

“Well,” she pauses, taking a sip of coffee before continuing, “I got pregnant my freshmen year of college.”

Carl eyes widened. He didn't know what he expected her to say, but this wasn't it. “What? Are you serious?”

She nods sadly. “Yes. Not only four months into college, I found out I was pregnant. You can only imagine what kind of Christmas surprise that was for everyone.”

He can't imagine. “W-what do you do?” He stutters.

“I sucked it up and accepted that I was going to be a parent at eighteen. I dropped out of college, got a part time job and saved up for my own apartment…” she trails off, looking dazed and smiles at her memories. “My child’s father… Mike… he wasn't prepared to be a parent and he left me on Valentine’s Day after I finally told him.”

“B-but-”

“A few weeks after he did, I found out I had miscarried…”

Carl doesn't realize he’s crying until he holds back a sob. “Michonne, I’m sorry… I can't even…”

“His name was going to be Andre Anthony… after he died… I realized that it was a sign for me to get my life back in order. I went back to school, got my bachelor’s degree in criminal justice and graduated from law school a few years later. The best part about everything is that I could take care myself. I could have taken care of Andre, without needing anything from anyone. I think about what my life would have been like with him. If I still would have ended here with your dad and you.”

“When I heard about you and Negan… I wanted to pick up the phone and tell you to stay away from him. But, I didn't. I remember being just like you, Carl. Falling in love with someone quickly and getting so wrapped up in their world, that I started to forget me and my world.”

“I don't know what to do, Michonne, I’m not strong like you… you…”

“No,” Michonne says, “you’re stronger than I ever could be. You came back here after everything your father as told you. You’re being the bigger person. You’re asking for help, you’re still in college and you’re still standing. Sometimes asking for help is the strongest thing to do. Something that I didn't learn until it was too late. Don't let this Negan character tear you down, Carl. Doesn't matter what he did to you, one day, he will realize that hurting you was the biggest mistake of his life. Want to know why?”

“Because he lost the greastest to ever happen to him. Carl, you’re still you. It may not feel that way now, but your there. The pain, tears, angry, disappointed and love will probably never go away. But, that doesn't mean you give up. Negan didn’t make Carl Grimes. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off and walk away. If you choose to go back, that's your choice. Just know… that no matter what choice that is, I will always be there, in your corner, supporting you. I will be your number one fan.”

Carl doesn't know how long he sobbed in Michonne’s arms that day.

His father doesn't deserve her.

~O~

Lydia shows up later that night, couresty of his father. Michonne talked to him awhile longer, hugging him and telling him the things that he needed to hear. Rick came back with pizza afterwards and they ate in silence. Rick warned him that Lydia going to be stopping by soon.

As stated, Lydia walked in the kitchen, looking nice as always.

She smiles her warm perfect smile. “Hey.”

“Hey, Lydia,” Carl responds.

  
He’s glad he washed his face and changed his clothes before she came over.

She walks closer and he stands up to hug her. She feels warm, and her sweatshirt smells so good, just like he remembers. “Your dad called me,” she says.

“I know.” Carl tries to smile, but it feels strange. “I’m sorry that he keeps bringing you into this. I don’t know what his problem is.”

“I do. He wants you to be happy,” she says, defending him.

“Lydia . . .” Carl warns.

“He just doesn’t know what really makes you happy. He wants it to be me, even though it’s not.” She gives a little shrug.

“I’m sorry.”

“Carl, stop apologizing. I just want to make sure you’re okay,” she assures him and hugs him again.

“I’m not,” He admits. He would be worst if Michonne didn't talk with him.

“I can tell. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know . . . are you sure that’s okay?” He can’t bear to hurt her again by talking about the guy he left her for.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she says and pours herself a glass of water before sitting across from him at the table.

“Okay . . .” He says and tells her basically everything. He leaves out the sex details, since those are private.

Well, they aren’t. But to him they are. He still can’t believe that Negan told his friends everything that they did . . . that’s the worst part. Even worse than showing the sheets is the fact that after telling Carl that Negan loved him, and making love, Negan could turn around and make a mockery of what had happened between them in front of everyone.

“I knew he was going to hurt you, I just had no idea how bad,” Lydia says. He can tell how angry she is; it’s strange to see this emotion on her face, given how calm and collected she normally is. “You’re too good for him Carl; he’s scum.”

“I can’t believe how stupid I was—I gave up everything for him. But the worst feeling in the world is loving someone who doesn’t love you.”

Lydia grabs his glass and twists it in her hands. “Tell me about it,” he says softly.

Carl wants to smack himself for saying what he just said, saying it to her. He opens his mouth, but she cuts him off before he can apologize.

“It’s okay,” she says and reaches out to rub her thumb over his hand.

God, he wishes he did love Lydia. He would be much happier with her, and she would never do something like Negan did to him.

Lydia catches him up on everything he’s missed since he left, which isn’t much. She’s going to go New York for college instead of GSU, which he finds he’s grateful for. At least one good thing came out of him hurting her: it gave her the push she needed to get out of Georgia. She tells him about what she’s researched on New York, and by the time she leaves, the sun has fallen, and he realizes Rick and Michonne stayed upstairs her whole visit.

Stepping out to the backyard, Carl wanders to the greenhouse where he spent most of his childhood. As he stares through his reflection in the glass and into the little structure, he sees that all its plants and flowers are dead, and it’s generally a mess, which feels fitting at the moment.

He has so many things to do, to figure out. He needs to find somewhere to live and find a way to get all of his stuff from Negan’s apartment. He was seriously considering just leaving everything there, but he can’t. He has no clothes except the ones he’s been keeping there and, most importantly, he needs his textbooks.

Reaching into his pocket, he turns his phone on, and within seconds his inbox is full and the voicemail symbol appears. He ignores the voicemails and quickly scans the messages, only looking at the sender. All except one are from Hardin.

Andrea wrote him: Philip said to tell you to stay home tomorrow, everyone will be leaving at noon anyway since the first floor needs to be repainted, so stay home. Let me know if you need anything. xx.

Having the day off tomorrow is a huge relief. Carl loves his internship, but he’s beginning to think he should transfer out of GSY, maybe even leave Georgia. The campus isn’t big enough for him to be able to avoid Negan and all of his friends, and Carl doesn't want the constant reminder of what he had with Negan. Well, what he thought he had.

By the time he goes back inside the house, his hands and face are numb from the cold. His father is sitting in a chair reading a magazine.

“Can I stay tonight?” Carl asks.

Rick looks at him briefly. “Yes. And tomorrow we’ll figure out how to get you back into the dorms,” he says and goes back to his magazine.

Figuring he’ll get no more from his father tonight, he goes up to his old room, which is exactly the way that he left it. They haven't changed a thing. He bids Michonne a good night and forces himself to sleep, dreaming of when his life was much better. Before he met Negan.

  
His phone rings in the middle of the night, waking him. But he ignores it, briefly wondering if Negan’s able to sleep at all.

 

~O~

The next morning Michonne wakes him up with a kiss to the forehead and says she’s leaving for work but they will talk soon.

Rick says, before leaving for work, is that he’ll call the school and force them to let him back into the dorms, in a different building far from his old one. Carl leaves, intending to head to campus, but then decides to go to the apartment, taking the exit to the road that leads there and driving quickly to keep from changing his mind.

At the complex, he scans the parking lot for Negan’s car, twice. Once he’s sure Negan isn’t around, he parks and hurries across the snowy lot to the door. By the time he gets to the lobby, the bottoms of his jeans are soaked and he’s freezing. He tries to think of anything except Negan, but it’s impossible.

Negan must have really hated him to go to this extreme to ruin his life and then to move him into an apartment far from anyone he knows. Negan must be pretty proud of himself right now for causing Carl this much pain.

As Carl fumbles with his keys before unlocking the door to their place a tidal wave of panic crashes over him, nearly knocking him on the ground.

When will it stop? Or at least decrease?

Carl goes straight to the bedroom and grabs his bags from the closet, roughly shoving all his clothes in them without care. His eyes flicker to the bedside table, where a small frame stands, displaying the picture of Negan and him smiling together before Hershel and Charlotte’s wedding.

Too bad it was all fake. Leaning across the bed, he grabs it and throws it against the concrete floor. It shatters into pieces and he jumps over the bed, grabs the photo, and rips it into as many pieces as he can, not realizing that he’s sobbing until he chokes on his own breath.

He grabs his books, piling them into an empty box, and, instinctively, Negan’s graphic novel; he won’t miss it, and, honestly, he’s owed it, after what Negan has taken from him.

His throat is sore, so he goes into the kitchen and grabs a glass of water. He sits down at the table and allows himself a few minutes to pretend that none of this has happened. To pretend that instead of his having to face the future days alone, Negan will be home from class shortly, and will smile at him and saying that he loves him, that he missed Carl all day. Then Negan will lift him onto the counter and kiss him with longing and love—

The clicking of the door startles Carl out of his pathetic daydream. He jumps to his feet as Negan walks through the door. He doesn’t see him, since he’s looking over his shoulder.

At a brunette in a black sweater dress.

“So this is it . . .” he begins, and then stops when he notices Carl’s bags on the ground.

Carl’s frozen as Negan’s eyes travel around the apartment and then over to the kitchen, where they widen in shock at seeing him.

“Car?” he says, as if he’s not sure that he actually exists.

  
Carl looks like hell. He’s in baggy jeans and a sweatshirt, yesterday’s stench, and tangled hair. He looks at the girl standing behind him. Her curly brown hair is silky and cascades in loose waves down her back. Her makeup is light, and perfect, but then, she’s one of those women who doesn’t need it to begin with. Of course she is.

This is humiliating and Carl wishes he could sink into the floor, disappearing out of the beautiful girl’s sight.

When he reaches down to pick one of his bags up off the floor, Negan seems to remember the girl is there and turns around to face her.

“Carl, what are you doing here?” he asks. As Carl wipes at the dirt from under his eyes, Negan asks his new girl, “Can you give us a minute?”

She looks at Carl, then nods and goes back into the building hallway.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he says and walks into the kitchen. He removes his jacket, which makes his plain white T-shirt ride up and reveal the tanned skin of his torso.

  
“I’m leaving.” Carl manages to say. Negan looks so perfect, so beautiful. Such a beautiful disaster.

“Please just let me explain myself,” he begs, and Carl notices the dark circles under Negan’s eyes are even more prominent than his.

“No.” Carl reaches for his bags again, but Negan grabs them from him and drops them back onto the floor.

“Two minutes, that’s all I’m asking for, Car.”

Two minutes is too long to be here with Negan, but this is the closure he knows he needs in order to move on with his life. He sighs and sits down, trying to hold back any noise that would betray his neutral expression. Negan is clearly surprised, but quickly takes the seat across from him.

“You sure moved on fast,” Carl says, lifting his chin toward the door.

“What?” Negan says, then seems to remember the brunette. “She works with me; her husband is downstairs with their newborn daughter. They’re looking for a new place, so she wanted to see our . . . the layout.”

“You’re moving?” Carl asks. Hopefully he moves far away from here.

“No, not if you’ll stay, but I don’t see the point in staying here without you. I’m just going over my options here.”

Something in him is slightly relieved, but then immediately a more defensive part of him notes that just because he isn’t sleeping with the brunette doesn’t mean he won’t be sleeping with someone else soon. Carl ignores the twinge of sorrow that comes along with Negan talking about moving out, even though he won’t be here when he does.

“You think I would bring someone back here to our apartment? It’s only been two days—is that how you think of me?”

Negan has some nerve. “You're a horrible person and I didn't think you would do something like that before—now? Yes!”

When Carl nods viciously at this, pain flashes across Negan’s face. But after a moment he just sighs in defeat. “Where did you stay last night? I went to Hershel’s and you weren’t there.”

“My parent’s.”

“Oh.” He looks down at his hands. “Did you guys work everything out?”

Carl stares directly into his eyes—he can’t believe Negan has the nerve to ask him about his family. “That’s no longer any of your business.”

Negan starts to reach out to him, but stops. “I miss you so much, Carl.”

Carl loses his breath again, but remember how good he is at twisting things around. He turns away. “Sure you do.”

Despite the whirlwind of his emotions, Carl won’t allow himself to come undone any further in front of Negan.

“I do, Carl. I know I fucked up big-time—but I love you. I need you.”

“Just stop, Negan. Save yourself the time and energy. You aren’t fooling me, not anymore. You got what you wanted, so why not just stop?”

“Because I can’t.” Negan reaches for his hand, but Carl jerks away. “I love you. I need you to give me a chance to make this up to you. I need you, Carl. I need you. You need me, too—”

“No, I don’t actually. I was fine before you came into my life.”

“Fine isn’t happy,” Negan says.

“Happy?” Carl scoffs. “And what, am I happy now?” How dare Negan try to claim he makes Carl happy.

But Negan did make him happy. So happy, once.

“You can’t sit here and tell me that you don’t believe that I love you.”

“I know you don’t, it was all a game to you. While I was falling in love with you, you were using me.”

Negan’s eyes well up with tears. He was such a great actor, it makes Carl sick. “Let me prove to you that I love you, please. I’ll do anything, Carl. Anything.”

“You’ve already proved enough to me, Negan. The only reason I’m even sitting here right now is because I owe it to myself to listen to what you have to say so I can move on with my life.”

“I don’t want you to move on,” Negan says.

Carl lets out a harsh breath. “This isn’t about what you want! This is about how you hurt me.”

Negan’s voice sounds small, and cracks. “You said you’d never leave me.”

Great another sob story. “I said I wouldn’t leave you if you didn’t give me a reason to. But you did.”

Now it makes perfect sense to Carl why he was always worried about him leaving. Carl thought it was Negan’s own paranoia about being good for him, but Carl was wrong. So wrong. He knew once Carl found out he would run. He should be running right now. He made excuses for Negan because of the things he went through as a child, but now Carl is beginning to wonder if Negan was lying about that, too. About all of it.

“I can’t do this anymore. I trusted you. Negan, I trusted you with every fiber of my being—I depended on you, I loved you, and you were using me all along. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? That everyone around me was mocking me and laughing behind my back, including you, the person I trusted the most.”

“I know, Carl, I know. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am. I don’t know what the fuck was wrong with me when I brought up the bet in the first place. I thought it would be easy . . .” His hands shake as he pleads with him. “I thought you would sleep with me and that would be the end of it. But you were so headstrong and so . . . intriguing that I found myself thinking of you constantly. I would sit in my room and try to plot ways that I could see you, even if it was just to fight with you. I knew it wasn’t just a bet anymore after that day at the stream, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit it. I was battling with myself, and I was worried about my reputation—I know that’s fucked up, but I’m trying to be honest. And when I told everyone about the things we did, I didn’t tell them what we were actually doing . . . I couldn’t do that to you, even in the beginning. I would just make up shit that didn’t actually happen, and they bought it.”

Carl just listens not saying anything. He wants to cry, but more importantly, he wants Negan to suffer.

“I hate to see you this way,” Negan mutters. “I swear, I started telling Simon and Tara about the stream, but I found myself getting irritated, jealous even, over the idea of them knowing what I did with you . . . how I made you feel, so I told them that you gave me . . . well, I just made shit up.”

Carl knows that him lying about what they did is no better than telling them the truth, not really. But for some reason he feels some relief that Negan and him are the only people who really know what happened between them, the real details of their moments together.

Which isn’t good enough. And then again, he’s probably lying right now—Carl can never tell—and here he’s already quick to believe him. What the hell is wrong with him?

“Even if I believed you, I can’t forgive you,” Carl says. Negan puts his head in his hands.

“You don’t love me?” he asks, looking at Carl between his fingers.

Yes, dumbass, it's only been a few days. Unfortunately, love doesn't go away that easily.

“Yeah,” Carl says. The truth of his confession weighs heavily between them. Negan lowers his hands, staring at Carl in a way that makes Carl regret his admission. It’s true, though. He loves him. He did love him.

“Then why can’t you forgive me?”

“Because this is unforgivable, you didn’t just lie. You took my virginity to win a bet—and then showed people the sheets we had sex in. How could anyone forgive that?”

He drops his hands and his bright hazel eyes look desperate . “I took your virginity because I love you!” he says, which only makes Carl shake his head vigorously, so he continues. “I don’t know who I am without you anymore.”

Carl looks away. “This wasn’t going to work anyway, we both know that,” he tells him to make himself feel better. It’s hard to sit across from him and watch him in pain, but at the same time Carl sense of justice means that seeing Negan in pain eases his.

“Why wouldn’t it work? We were doing great—”

“Everything we had was based on a lie, Negan.” And because his pain has given Carl a sudden feeling of confidence, he says,“Besides, look at you and look at me.” Carl doesn't mean it, but the look on Negan’s face when Carl uses his biggest insecurity about their relationship against him—though it kills something inside him—also reminds him that Negan deserves it. Negan’s always been worried about how they look together, that Carl’s too good for him. And now he’s thrown it in Negan’s face.

“Is this about Lydia? You saw her, didn’t you?” Negan asks and Carl’s mouth twists at his audacity. Negan’s eyes shine with tears and Carl wants to tell that he did this. Negan ruined everything.

  
Not him.

“Yes, I did, but that has nothing to do with it. That’s your problem—you go around doing whatever the hell you want to people, not caring about the outcome, and you expect everyone to just be okay with it!” Carl shouts and stands up from the table.

“No, I don’t, Carl!” Negan yells, and Carl rolls his eyes. At that, he pauses, then stands and looks out the window, then back at him. “Okay, yes, so maybe I do. But I really do care about you.”

“Well, you should have thought about that when you were bragging about your conquest,” Carl says steadily.

“My conquest? Are you fucking serious right now? You aren’t some conquest of mine—you’re everything to me! You’re my breath, my pain, my heart, my life!” He takes a step toward me. What’s makes me the saddest is that these are the most touching words that Hardin has ever said to me, but he’s screaming them.

“Well, it’s a little too late for that!” Carl screams back. “You think you can just—”

Negan catches him off guard by wrapping his hand around the back of Carl’s neck and pulling him to him, crashing his lips together. The familiar warmth of his mouth nearly brings Carl to his knees. Carl’s tongue is moving along with Negan’s before his mind catches up to what’s happening.

Negan moans in relief and Carl tries to push him away. Negan grabs his wrists in one hand and holds them on his chest as he continues to kiss him. Carl keeps struggling to get out of his grip, but his mouth continues to move along with his. Negan backs up and pulls Carl with him until he’s against the counter, and his other hand reaches out to the side of Carl’s neck, holding him still. All of the pain and heartache inside Carl’s begin to dissolve and he relaxes his hands in Negan’s. This is wrong but so right.

But wrong.

Carl pulls away and Negan tries to reconnect their lips, but Carl turns his head. “No,” Carl says.

Negan’s eyes soften. “Please . . .” he begs.

“No, Negan. I need to go.”

He lets go of his wrists. “Go where?”

“I . . . I don’t know yet. My father is trying to get me back into a dorm.”

“No . . . no . . .” Negan shakes his head, his voice becoming frantic. “You live here, don’t go back into the dorms.” He runs his hands through his hair. “If anyone should, it’s me. Just please stay here so I know where you are.”

“You don’t need to know where I am.”

“Stay,” Negan repeats.

If Carl’s being completely honest with himself, he wants to stay with him. He wants to tell him that he loves him more than he wants to breathe, but he can’t. He refuses to get pulled back in and be that guy who lets other people do whatever the hell they want to him.

Carl picks up his bags and says the only thing that will keep Negan from following. “Lydia and my father are waiting, I have to go,” he lies and walks out of the door.

Negan doesn’t follow, and Carl doesn't let himself turn around to see the pain he’s in.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Haven't posted in almost three months!
> 
> I'm writing two chapters from Negan's POV on how "the bet" came to be. His personal thoughts, actions and feelings on it. What do you guys think?
> 
> Next Update: 2 SEPTEMBER 2017


	17. SEVENTEEN

**this is chapter is fragments from negan's thoughts and how 'the bet' came to be.**

 

**NEGAN**

 

“Look at all these fucking freshmen!” Simon whistles and sits down next to Negan by one of the benches outside of the Student Center. “The girls get hotter every year. It must be something in the water. I mean bigger tits, fatter asses, and more curves. I can't figure this shit out.”

 

Negan chuckles, taking a sip of his beer. “It just means new pussy,” he says. He looks around to see the different girls lining up from various activities, looking his way and then blushing, going to back to what they were doing. He winks at a blonde who has long legs and breasts practically slipping from her shirt.

 

Aw, how fucking cute! He's pretty sure he’ll at least sleep with twenty girls here by the end of the week. More if they’re really wild. And let’s be honest, he won't be doing much ‘sleeping’ with these girls anyways. 

 

He loves the first day of college for this very reason.

 

“You think you can get anyone you want. Don't you?” Simon says with a smirk, popping open another can of beer and taking a sip. Simon throws his sunglasses on and leans back against the bench so that his view of all the girls are cut off. Strange. He’s usually the main one flirting.

 

“No, Simon,” Negan says. “I know I can.”

 

Simon laughs slightly. “I wouldn't be surprised if your dick falls off.”

 

“At least I will have you to suck it back to life.”

 

“Fuck you!” Simon laughs, pushing Negan on the shoulder.

 

“Only if you were into guys,” Negan jokes and finishes his beer, tossing it into the trash can near by.

 

“You're such a dick,” Simon complains and sits up straighter.

 

“Speaking of dick,” Negan trails off. “I’m definitely getting more of that this year.”

 

Simon snorts. “It must be nice to turn away guys and girls all at once. I remember at least thirty guys wanted to have sex with you last year. I don't understand.”

 

“Simon,” Negan says slowly. “I was on a strict no dick only vagina diet last year, that's old news now. Over the summer I had time to think. Why limit my options? Fucking guys are just as good as fucking girls. In fact,” he stands up to make a point and whistles at a guy walking past. The guy blushes and stares at him for moment but quietly walking away.

 

“I'm going to start my man hunt right now,” he finishes and pats Simon on the shoulder before turning to go where the Freshmen orientation is being held.

 

“You're going to fall in love one day!” Simon yells from behind him.

 

“And when that day happens!” Negan shouts back, ignoring all the people staring at him. “Pigs will start flying in hell as it's freezes over!”

 

Negan loving someone?

 

That sounds very disgusting and exhausting.

 

And besides, he’ll rather have his nuts cut off than only have sex with one person. Why be in a relationship with someone when he’ll probably cheat or fuck it up? Maybe both. 

 

He scans the crowds of people.

 

Yeah, no one is worth it.

 

~O~

 

It's the second day here and Sherry was already annoying the fuck out of him. They saw each other all summer and Negan couldn't care less about Dwight finding out about them.   
  


“Do I look like I care about what Dwight thinks?“ Negan says, tired of dealing with her petty bullshit.

  
“No,” Sherry says in a soft voice. Damn, she's hot as hell. “I don't want to hurt him. He’s still my boyfriend, Negan...”   
  
“That's your mistake,” Negan chuckles, looping an arm around her and squeezing her waist.   
  
“Negan,” she giggles and then stops, her face going serious.   
  
“Sherry,” Negan says, because she's acting so damn stupid. “If you didn't want to hurt your precious Dwight’s feels, why did you let me fuck you senseless, hmm?”   
  
Her mouth turns down in a slight frown. He refuses to fight Dwight over Sherry. Dwight can have her. Her pussy isn’t that good.

“That was an accident...” She says, not looking convinced herself.

  
“Really?” Negan's eyebrows rise almost comically. “Was your mouth accidentally on my dick this morning? I don't recall you thinking of Dwight's feelings when you sat on my face two nights ago.”   
  
Sherry slaps him, hard. He doesn't even flinch, but he does grin more just to annoy her. “You're an asshole, Negan.”   
  
There's a pregnant pause and Sherry kisses him roughly, grabbing his leather jacket. Negan allows her to and pulls back with a cocky grin as she sighs.   
  


Negan can feel it now. Someone was watching them. He looks up in the direction of a guy in a towel. The corners of Sherry’s mouth frown slightly, but she doesn’t say a word.

 

Little does Negan know that the 'towel guy' will damaged him forever.

 

~O~

  
_**His** presence made him feel at ease; the fire in his heart was cooled and he was becoming addicted to **him**. He craved **him** until he had **him** , and once he took **him** , neither of them could stop. **His** body became his safety, **his** mind Negan's home. The more he loved **him,** the more he was hurting **him.** He couldn’t stay away, and through their struggles and growth, **he** became the normalcy he’d craved his entire life. _ _   
_

~O~  
  
  
“Are you almost done?” Brown hair and swollen lips look up at Negan from between his legs. He had nearly forgotten she was here.   
  
“Yeah.” Negan wraps his hands around her shoulders and closes his eyes, letting the physical pleasure she’s giving him take over. A distraction, that’s what she is. They all are.   
  
The pressure in his spine builds, and he doesn’t bother to pretend that he enjoys her company for more than sexual pleasure as he releases into her warm mouth.   
  
Seconds later, she’s wiping at her lips with the back of her hand and getting to her feet.   
  
“You know . . .” Sherry reaches for her purse and pulls out a tube of dark lipstick. “You could at least pretend to be interested, asshole.” Her lips pucker, and she wipes a finger across the excess crayon painted onto her mouth.   
  
“I am.” Negan clears his throat. “Pretending, that is.”   
  
She rolls her eyes and raises her middle finger to him. He’s interested—sexually, at least. She’s a good enough fuck, and she’s okay company sometimes. They are a lot alike. Both rejects of  life. He doesn’t know too much about her past, but he knows enough to know that some bad shit has happened to her to make her run all the way to Washington from some rich-bitch town in Pennsylvania.   
  
“Dick,” she mutters, pushing the cap back on her makeup. She looks better with naturally pink lips, lips that are swollen from having his cock in her mouth.   
  
Sherry is an acquaintance of his. Well, a friend with benefits, he would say. Their “friendship” isn’t exclusive, not in the least, and they both have full freedom to do whatever, or whoever, the fuck they want. She hates him half the time, but he’s okay with that. It’s mutual.   
  
“You’ll be here tonight, for the party?” she asks.   
  
Negan stands, too, pulling his boxers and jeans up mhis legs. “I live here, don’t I?” He raises a brow at her.   
  
He hates it here, and daily he finds himself wondering just how the fuck he ended up in a fraternity in the first place.   
  
The stupid-ass fraternity does have its perks. A massive house with parties almost every night, a constant stream of endless pussy. And the best part of all: no one fucks with him.   
  
None of the pissant frat boys seem to mind the fact that he doesn’t do shit to actually represent the house. He doesn’t t wear their stupid sweatshirts or plaster their stupid bumper stickers on his car.They do some okay shit for the community, but they don’t actually give a fuck about the community, and none of that matters.   
  
When he glances around the room, he’s alone. Sherry must have left without him even noticing.   
  
He gets up and opens the window to air the place out before it gets used again tonight. All of these empty rooms in the house work in his favor since he can’t stand to have people in his room. It’s too personal or something, he doesn’t know, but he doesn’t like it, and everyone has learned one way or another not to come in here. Sherry and whichever other people come around know they’re bound for these empty rooms and not his.   
  
As he approach his door, he sees Tara stumbling down the hall, a short, curly-haired girl under her arm. She isn’t quiet about what she wants to do to Tara.

  
“Get a damn room!” Negan shout to them.   
  
She giggles and Tara flips him off and Negan closes and dead-bolt the door. That’s the pattern around here. Everyone sort of ignores him or simply tells him in one way or another to fuck off. 

  
Negan grabs his baseball bat that was on the shelf, kicks his boots off and lays on his bed.   
  
“Fuck, yes!” He hears a female voice screech through the paper-thin walls.   
  
“Shut the fuck up!” He pounds his fist against the old wood, grabbing his pillow and pushing it against his ears.   
  
He fucking hates everyone.   
_   
_   
~O~

  
  
The first day of the fall semester is always the absolute best for people-watching. So many fucking idiots running around like chickens with their heads cut off, so many girls dressed in their favorite outfits in a desperate attempt to gain attention from men. It’s the same cycle every year at every college across the globe. Georgia State University just happens to be where he’s condemned to attend. He likes it enough; it’s easy, and his professors cut him a lot of slack. Despite his lack of giving an actual fuck, he’s pretty decent academically. If he “applied myself more,” he could be even better, but he doesn’t have the time or the energy to waste obsessing over grades or plans or anything that could be obsessed over. Negan is not as stupid as the professors always assume he’ll be. He can miss an entire week of class and still ace an exam. He’s learned that as long as he can do that, they’ll leave him be.   
  
The front of the Student Union is the prime location for the show. Sitting here watching all the parents in tears has to be his favorite part. It’s amusing to me because my mum couldn’t seem to get rid of me quick enough, and some of the parents here act like their damn arms are getting cut off when their children—adult children, might I remind you—are off to college. They should be happy, not sobbing like annoying children, that their kids are actually doing something with their lives. If they took a walk around his old neighborhood, they would kiss the ground of Georgia State University for giving their child a chance in the world.   
  
A woman with huge fake tits and bleached hair hugs her puny, plaid-shirt-wearing son, and I’m full on grinning as he starts to cry into his mum’s shoulder. Fucking pussy. His dad is standing back, away from the pathetic sight, checking his expensive watch, waiting for his son and wife to stop their blubbering.   
  
Negan can’t imagine how that would feel, having his parents obsess over him. His mom cared enough, when she wasn’t working from sunup to sundown, leaving him to fend for himself as she made up for his shitbag father’s lack of common sense. She tried to make up for it the best she could, but one can only do so much when so much has already been lost. And he fought her help. Every step of the way. He wouldn’t accept it then and still won’t accept it now. Not from her, not from anyone.   
  
“Hey, man.” Simon sits down across from him at the picnic table and pulls a cigarette from his pocket. “What’s the plan for the night?” he asks as his fingers flick over the lighter.   
  
Negan shrugs and pulls his phone from his pocket to check the time. “I don’t know.”   
  
By the time they reach the dorms, Simon is going on about the party this weekend. It’s always the same every single weekend. What’s there to be excited about?   
  
Everything is always the same for him. Same group of friends, same amount of sex, same parties, same old shit, different day.   
  


 

~O~   
  
  
  
_ The fuck? He hadn’t expected such a smartass mouth on such an innocent-looking boy. He’s trying hard to be patient with Negan, and Negan is trying hard to make him explode. He can’t help but laugh. _ _   
_   
_ As he stares at Noah’s pissed-off roommate, it feels odd laughing this way, this hard, but his expression is just fucking priceless. He’s so pissed. _

 

_ Negan doesn't date. If he says in enough times, maybe he will start to believe it too.  _

 

_ He doesn't date. _

 

_ He doesn't. _

 

_... Until he **wants** too. _

 

_ Fuck. _

 

_ ~O~  
_   
  
  
Negan drives farther onto campus and sits through the rest of his classes for the day. Afterward, he gets a text from Simon to meet him and Beth at Blind Bob’s and head that way. He turns the music up in his car and rolls the window down. When I was a teen, I used to think people were fucking show-offs when they blasted music from their car windows, but now he gets it. Sometimes he just wants to drown out the world around him, and music and reading are the only things that do that for him. Everyone has their thing, and these are his.   
  
When he needs silence, the noise helps.   
  
Better than a fifth of Jack, he supposes. 

“What took so long?” Beth takes a bite from a hamburger; half the toppings fall onto the plate in front of her.   
  
“Traffic was a bitch.” Negan slides into the booth next to Simon. Their usual server nods at him, and moments later she appears at the table with a glass of water.   
  
“Still holding back on the alcohol, yeah?” Simon questions; his eyes carefully avoid Negan’s glass as he takes a drink of his beer.   
  
“Hmm.” Negan finishes half the glass of water, trying not to think about the way an ice-cold beer would taste on his tongue.   
  
“Good for you, Negan. I know everyone gives you shit about it, but I think it’s pretty fucking awesome, the self-control you have.”   
  
At Beth’s praise, Negan shifts awkwardly.   
  
Simon laughs, wiping a napkin across his chin. “Self-control? I heard Sherry screaming your name just last night.”   
  
“Well, sober with drinking. No, no, of course not chicks.”

 

~O~

  
Simon ends up convincing Negan to let him drive his car. He only had one beer, and Negan doesn't feel like driving really, so he agrees. Simon tells him about picking up Noah.

  
“Sherry has been blowing up my phone, says you won’t answer her,” Simon says as they pull out of the parking lot.   
  
Negan roll his eyes. “I told her an hour ago that I would see her at the party.” Sherry is so fucking annoying.   
  
“I just told her we’re on our way. I'm going to ask Noah and his roommate if they want to come along,” Simon says, and rolls down the driver’s-side window.   
  
“Why?”   
  
“Because his roommate seems nice and should definitely get out more. Noah said they knew each since high school and his roommate only really hung out with his girlfriend or something.”   
  
“Girlfriend?” Negan scoffs. Wait, the blond girl in the dorm? He vaguely remembers when he saw Noah and his stupid roommate and his family. 

“Yeah, she was cute, looks kinda bitchy though.”   
  
“Hmm.” Negan laughs and turns up the music. After a few moments, he turns it up even louder.   
  
When they pull into the parking lot of Noah’s dorm, Negan’s phone buzzes. It’s Sherry’s name, so he hits ignore.   
  
As Simon goes up to the dorms to get Noah and his roommate, Negan climbs into the backseat and closes his eyes.   
  
“What the fuck took you so long?” He asks, annoyed when Simon unlocks the door a few minutes later.   
  
“Impatient asshole,” Simon says and climbs into the front seat. Noah takes the passenger seat but looks at his roommate.   
  
It’s the guy in towel! Fuckfuckfuck.

  
“What the literal fuck?” Negan glares at stranger and sets upright suddenly to stare at Simon in the mirror. “You invited the eavesdropper in here?”   
  
“Wait a second, he’s the loser in the towel?” Simon chokes up in the driver’s seat, starting up the car.   
  
“What?” Noah questions in confusion.    
  
“I wasn't eavesdropping,” Noah’s roommate snaps.“You and your friend were talking loudly in front of my door so I couldn't do anything else.”   
  
“Please,” Negan snorts, surprised. “You were standing there in a towel, two seconds away from jacking off to my conversation.”   
  
Noah’s roommate says nothing and clenches his jaw, turning his head to look out the window.

  
“What's your name anyways?” Negan asks after a few moments of silence.    
  
“Carl,” He mumbles under his breath, looking two seconds away from exploding.

 

Carl?   
  


“Carlton? That's a stupid name. Sounds like a annoying animal’s name.” Negan smirks, testing Carl’s patience.   
  


But Carl seems to hold back a remark. Until…

  
“I said my name is Carl,” Carl repeats louder this time.   
  
“Yeah,” Negan smirks. “I know. I heard you the first time, Carlton.”   
  
Carl leans back against his seat and rolls his eyes. 

As they drive, Negan glances to his side few times to look at Carl. The house is close; they only have to sit through a few minutes of awkward silence until they arrive. Simon parks in front of the house behind a line of cars.

“How many people will be here?” Carl gulps, looking nervous as hell. Negan rolls his eyes. Doesn't he see the crowd of people on the lawn.

“Hopefully a lot of new people for me to _talk_ with.” Negan says with a wicked grin and gets out of the car, slamming the car door behind him. He doesn't wait for Carl.

  
Negan grabs a red cup when he reaches the front door, not bothering to say hello as Simon does so for him. He hasn't had a drink in three days. He deserves this. He needs this.

 

~O~   
  
  
_ He knew from early on, from their first encounter to the first time **he** used that smart mouth against him, that he felt something different when it came to **him.** He wasn’t sure . . . no, he had no fucking idea that the fire inside of **him** would weaken, then be extinguished by his habit of making mistake after mistake, but often he finds himself sitting alone, reliving the days when **he** was on fire. When **his** voice and **his** actions were filled with so much passion that the air between them would fill with smoke. Negan should have known that that much passion would lead to destruction, to the burning of **his** soul, and make every ounce of **his** spirit disintegrate, taking the boy he loved, the boy that he couldn’t and still can’t breathe without, and he would have to watch **him** drift away, with the last few clouds of gray smoke. _

 

_ ~O~ _

_   
_   
Negan walks through the crowded party, pushing his way through a group of wasted assholes playing some sort of drinking game to occupy their time while trying desperately to fit in. Their bloodshot eyes and stupid grins make him nauseous as he passes them. One by one they give him the same “he’s an asshole” look? while tossing plastic balls into beer-filled cups and cheering as if they’ve won some sort of medal for being completely brainwashed into drinking the cheapest beer from shared cups.   
  
When he gets to the crowded hallway, he spots Noah and Beth. Carl looks clueless, completely out of place in the swarm of moving bodies. A drink is pushed into Carl’s hand, and he smiles politely, despite the fact that he doesn’t want it. Negan can tell by the look in Carl’s eyes. Carl takes it, though, bringing the red cup to his mouth.   
  
Another follower. Surprise, surprise.   
  
“Helloooo, Earth to Negan!” Sherry’s voice cuts through the noise. He glances down at her, noting the annoyed expression on her face while she rests her hand on her hip. Her eyes are on Carl.   
  
“What were you staring at?” she asks, voice tight.

  
“Nothing. Mind your damn business.” He continues on, up the stairs and towards his room. Behind him he hears tacky and excessive jewelry clanging in the most annoying way. He turns back to Sherry and her puppy-dog eyes. “Are you following me for a reason?”   
  
She flips her brown hair from her shoulder. “I’m bored,” she complains.   
  
“And . . . ?” Negan pulls his phone from his back pocket and pretends to be doing anything but listening to her.   
  
Sherry runs her hand down his arm. “Entertain me, asshole.”   
  
Negan looks her up and down, enjoying the way her tiny dress shows off all the things he’s already seen. Her nails push into his skin, and her smile grows.   
  
“Come on, Negan, when was the last time you got off?”   
  
She has no shame. He loves it.   
  
“Well, considering you blew me two days ago . . .”   
  
Her lips are on his before he can get another word out. He pulls back, she pushes forward.   
  
Ah, may as well. She’s not half bad, and there are worse things he could be doing with his time. Like Beth, hanging out with Goody Carlton all night. That would put anyone to sleep.   
  
Sherry leads him to the farthest bedroom on the right; she already knows better than to try to go into his room. No one comes into his room. The door closes behind her, and she’s on him within seconds. Her mouth is hot, her lips painted with sticky gloss.   
  
The act of touching, be it with Sherry or someone else, gives him an escape. Doesn’t make much sense to him, but when his mind is turned off for a while, it’s easier. It’s a rush, the only time he really feels much of anything.   
  
Sherry leads him to the bed, an empty one without so much as a sheet on the damned thing. These small details don’t make a difference when you don’t feel any of it. Sherry lays her small body on mine, grinding herself against his leg. Negan wraps her brown hair around his fist, pulling her mouth off of his.   
  
“No,” He warns her. She groans, whining like she usually does when he reminds her not to kiss him.   
  
“You’re such an asshole,” she complains, but shifts to straddle his waist.   
  
The door clicks open, and she stops moving her hips. Turning around, she sits up, and he leans up on his elbows.   
  
“Can I help you?” Sherry’s tone is harsh with impatience and need.   
  
And of course—of course—standing in the doorway is Carl, Noah’s roommate, with a look on his face that tells him he’s more embarrassed than Sherry and Negan put together.   
  
“Sorry,” Carl stammers. “I thought this was a bathroom.” He frowns down at his soiled shirt as if it was evidence. This guy spends a lot of time looking down, it seems.   
  
“Okay? So go find a bathroom,” Sherry mocks with a flip of her hand. “Go find a bathroom.”   
  
Carl leaves the room immediately and closes the door.   
  
Still, as Sherry starts in on his neck, he can see the shadow of Carl’s feet under the doorway. Is he listening to them? How fucking weird. A few seconds later Carl disappears and Sherry reaches her hand down between his legs.   
  
“God, that boy irritates me,” she complains.   
  
For someone who isn’t very well liked herself, Sherry sure has a lot of people who “irritate” her.   
  
“Should I have asked him to join us?” Negan shrugs his shoulders, and Sherry grimaces.   
  
“Ew. No way. Beth or Noah, maybe, but that Carl freak, no way. He’s not even hot, and probably has a small dick too.”   
  
“You’re a bitch, you know that?” Negan shakes his head at her. Carl, plain and all, has a nice body—the kind of body that people love, the kind of body that Negan would fuck in a heartbeat if Carl could learn to tame that attitude of his.   
  
“Whatever. It’s just his ass that you like.” Sherry’s mouth latches on to his neck.   
  
“I don’t fucking like him,” He says, feeling the need to defend himself.   
  
“Well, obviously you don’t like him.” Sherry draws back to look at his eyes. She smiles like they’re in on a secret together or something. “That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t fuck him.”   
  
Her mouth catches his jaw, nipping at the skin there. Her hands grip his, one over his cock, and she continues to move her small body over his.   
  
“No more talking.” Negan reaches down between her parted thighs and runs his fingers over her. She groans against his neck, and he focuses on the pleasure she’s providing him. Sherry is more like him than she would ever admit. She, too, finds her days bleak and unexciting. She, too, uses sensation to escape her own head. 

  
Sherry’s body shakes as he pumps his fingers into her, knowing by now how to get her off quickly. Just as she moans, he catches the sound of “T,” but she quickly recovers and says Negan’s name.   
  
T? What the fuck? Negan tries not to laugh at the thought of her talking about Tara, saying her nickname while Negan pleasures her. She knows better than to think Tara would give her the time of day. Tara’s nice enough to Sherry—simply because she’s a nice person—but Tara has standards.   
  
If he cared, he would call her out on it, but he simply doesn't give a fuck. He uses her and she uses him—they both know this. Hus mind wanders to the party downstairs. He wonders how many times Noah’s roommate has cried so far. He’s quite the emotional one, with his ranting and sassy attitude that belies a frailty.   
  
Sherry’s hands tug at his jeans, unfastening the button, and he closes his eyes as her warm lips wrap around his cock.   
  
Afterward, she doesn’t say a word and she wipes her fingers across her swollen lips. Sherry stands, pulling her dress down to cover her body as much as the scrap can, and she leaves the room.   
  
Negan lies there, on a bed that isn’t his, and stares at the ceiling for a few minutes more before wandering out into the hallway. The party is still going; the floors are getting messier and messier by the minute. A group of three drunk girls holding hands walks by.   
  
“You guys are my best friends,” the shortest of the three says.   
  
One of them is wearing a blue sweater, her eyes bloodshot as she stumbles down the hall, nearly tripping over her feet. “I love you both!” she replies, her eyes filling with tears.   
  
Drunk girls are there, crying and being “best friends” with everyone . . .   
  
Tara appears at the end of the hall, a crooked smile on her face and a drink in each hand. She offers him one, but Negan shakes his head. He’s had one drink tonight and that’s enough.

  
“Yours is water,” she says, holding the red cup between them.   
  
He grabs it, bringing it to his nose to smell the liquid. “Erm, thanks.” He takes a drink of the cold water and ignores the way Tara is silently judging him for drinking water.   
  
“The house is packed, man,” she says, clearing her throat with a grimace. “This cheap vodka burns like a bitch.”   
  
He doesn't say anything, he just lets his eyes roam around the hall as they walk toward the stairs.   
  
“Oh, hey, I saw Carl go into your room,” she says from behind him. Negan turns to face her.   
  
“What?”   
  
“He went in there, with Beth and Noah. Beth’s sick, puking in the bathroom.”   
  
“Why would they go into my room?” Negan raises his voice. He could have sworn he locked it. No one goes into his room. Sick or not. They especially don’t go in there to throw up on his things.   
  
She shrugs. “Don’t know. Just warning you.”   
  
Tara disappears into the crowd as Negan heads towards his room. Beth knows better than to go into his room—why didn’t she warn her little tagalongs?   
  
  
~O~

 

Negan can’t help but smile at the little feisty freshman. Long brown hair and killer curves hidden underneath those hideous outfits . . . but something about this boy irritates him on a deeper level than Sherry does, or even Beth. He can’t put his finger on it, but he’s getting under his skin pretty quickly and he needs to put a stop to that.   
  
He takes a visual sweep of the room, seeing what else has might have been disturbed. The mirror on his wall catches his attention, mainly because the man standing in it is barely recognizable. He doesn't know who he’s become in the last few years.   
  
But more surprisingly, he doesn't understand where the stupid smile now on his face has come from.   
  
He’s used to bickering with obnoxious people during these parties. Why did he enjoy this so much more than usual? Is it because of this new boy? Carl’s not his usual prey, but he’s fun to toy with.   
  
The noise from downstairs fills his room, and with Beth in his bed, he has nothing to do. He will have to get Simon to carry her out of here—and drop her in the hallway, if need be. Surely she’s slept in worse places. He finds himself thinking about Carl and his attitude. The way he stubbornly shook his head and wouldn’t back down from him.   
  
Negan walks out into the hallway and convinces some frat newbie to move Beth’s body to an empty room down the hall. He watches a moment to make sure he doesn’t stay in there with her, and when he pops out of the room, Negan heads back towards his own.   
  
  
He feels dizzy. He doesn't feel right. Tara better not have tricked him and slipped some shit in his water.   
  


~O~

 

IT TAKES HIM A WHILE to fall asleep, but when he does, he finds himself dreaming about a different world, a bright blue eyed guy keeps popping up everywhere to scowl him. But the sound of his mother’s screams wakes him, and he bolts upright, sweat soaking through his shirt, and turns on the light.   
  
When will this shit end? It’s been years and it won’t go away.   
  
After a few more fitful hours of staring at the ceiling and walls and trying to convince himself he must’ve slept in all that time, he takes a shower and walks down to the kitchen. Grabbing a trash bag, he decides to help clean up, for once. Maybe if he does some nice shit for people, he’ll get a full night’s sleep sometime.   
  
In the kitchen, he finds Carl, still here, laughing and leaning against the counter.   
  


A laugh that will later haunt him when **he** leaves.

 

Fuck.

 

~O~

_   
He woke up one night, months after he’d met **him**. He rolled over to find **him** cradled against him, **his** legs wrapped around Negan’s. He had never felt anything like this before, his pain felt so diminished but his heart and mind so electric at the same time—and he had no experience of anything of this sort. Negan wanted to wake **him** , he wanted to confess his sins to **his angel** that night, but **he** woke at the exact moment he was going to ask for forgiveness . . . and he didn’t have the strength.   
  
He was a coward and a liar and he knew it. He could only hope that **he** would have mercy on him. **His** eyes fluttered and searched for him, and Negan felt a crushing weight on him. He couldn’t ruin who **he** thought he was, but Negan was terrified of their future, for he learned as a child that every lie made in the dark becomes an evil truth in the light. _

_Fuck._

 

~O~

 

The sounds of laughing and a dog barking wake me from his three-hour sleep. He never get much sleep anyway, but he would appreciate a little peace in the hallways, considering it’s a Monday morning and he has class in . . . He reaches for his phone and checks the time.   
  
8:43.   
  
Fuck.   
  
He has less than thirty minutes to get to his Media class—and why the hell is there a dog in the house, anyway?   
  
Grabbing last night’s black jeans from the floor, Negan pull them on, stumbling slightly and cursing at the tight fabric. His legs are just too damn long to wear baggy jeans without looking like fucking Gumby. He tossed his keys onto the floor last night, so he’s subjected to the ordeal of rummaging through the clutter of shit to find them. Black T-shirts, dirty black jeans, and filthy socks crowd the floor.   
  
He makes his way through the house, ignoring the telltale signs of last night’s party. Tara waves to him, bags under her eyes and an energy drink in her hand.   
  
“I feel like shit, man,” she groans, trying to smile. She’s always smiling, and Negan catches himself wondering what that would feel like. To be happy all the time like he is. Even this hungover. He has never managed it.   
  
“You’ve got the right idea, not drinking.” She walks over to the fridge. She pulls out a half gallon of milk and drinks it straight from the container.   
  
“Nice.” Negan shakes his head at her, and she smiles, then drinks some more. The kitchen starts to fill up with other members of the fraternity, and since he’s not in their clique, he grabs a piece of pizza from the detritus of last night’s drunken decision to order ten pizzas at 4 a.m.   
  
As he’s leaving the room, he hears Spencer asking everyone if they want to go to some restaurant tonight before the party. He didn’t expect them to invite him . . . they never do. It’s not that he would ever be caught dead hanging out with a bunch of dumb-ass frat boys with too much gel in their hair outside of a party or two.   
  
  
By the time he gets to campus, the parking lot is almost full and he has to cut off some douchebag in a Beamer to take his spot.   
  
The professor is already blabbing when he enters the lecture room. Looking around the space, he searches for an empty seat and notices the boy in the front row. His long brown hair is mildly recognizable; it’s the baggy jeans and checkered shirt that confirms it. Carl, Noah’s prudish roommate.   
  
Sitting next to Enid Greene. Of course he is. This should be fun: Carl trapped in a classroom with Negan, an empty seat next to him. This has quickly become the highlight of his day.   
  
As he gets closer, Carl looks back at him and his eyes go wide. He turns around quickly, and Negan moves quickly to sit next to him. Just like he knew Carl would, he ignores him. Carl’s wearing a blue button-up shirt that has to be at least two sizes too big, and his hair is combed back away from his face.   
  
Just as he approaches them, his phone vibrates in his pocket.   
  
  
“I think this will be my favorite class,” Carl says to Enid once the professor has dismissed them.   
  
Weirdly, it may be Negan’s favorite, too, even though he’s sitting in the class for fun, really. He got away with classifying it as an elective even though he’s taken it before.   
  
Carl turns to him when he realizes that Negan is following them. “What do you want, Negan?”   
  
It’s already working.   
  
Negan smiles at him, an innocent smile, as if he’s not trying to get under his skin. “Nothing. Nothing. I’m just so glad we have a class together.” His tone is mocking, and Carl rewards his sarcasm with an eye roll. Negan continues to stare him way the entire duration of the class, getting a rush each time Carl huffs or fidgets uncomfortably. He’s so easy to rile up—Negan loves it. The hour is over before he would like it to be, and Carl starts packing her bag up before the professor dismisses us. Not so fast.   
  
He jumps to his feet, ready to follow Carl and Enid out of the building. He’s not ready for his fun to end just yet. When they reach the hallway, Enid turns to Carl. Carl looks nervous having both of them standing in front of him.   
  
“I’ll see you later, Carl,” Enid says without a word to Negan.   
  
“You would find the lamest kid in class to befriend,” Negan teases Carl as she disappears into the crowd of freshmen trying to find their way around campus.   
  
“Don’t say that about her; she’s a sweet girl. Unlike you,” Carl snaps.   
  
Negan turns to him, surprised by his vehement loyalty to her. Does he know her already? Does she know him? Does he like her?   
  
Why the fuck would Negan care?   
  
Pushing the questions far from his mind, Negan has an electric urge to push his buttons more. “You’re becoming more feisty with each chat we have, Carlton.”   
  
Carl begins to walk faster to get away from him, so he speeds up to match his pace.   
  
“If you call me Carlton one more time . . .” Carl’s full lips purse together, and he attempts a glare at him. But Carl’s eyes warm mid-glare, shifting from gray into a clear blue and the tension slips from Negan’s shoulders. He feels it, something creeping up his spine as his body starts to relax.   
  
Negan shakes it off, this weird feeling. Carl's still staring. Negan changed his mind; He thought he liked how Carl stared at him before, trying to decipher him, but now he can feel Carl's judgment crawling over his skin. Negan doesn't need Carl questioning him and his fucking choices.   
  
“Stop staring at me!” Negan demands, and walks away. He turns the corner and feels breathless. It reminds him of those nights when he’d smoke just way too many cigarettes. He doesn't smoke anymore,he doesn't do that anymore, he has to remind himself, and leans against the brick wall and catches his breath.   
  
**He's**  odd, that brown haired boy with too much attitude.   
  
  


~O~

 

THE ENTIRE WEEK was shit. Party after party, noise after noise. All the sounds of misery.   
  
At most Negan has slept a total of twenty hours in the past week, and he's exhausted today. He can barely see straight through his throbbing headache, and he can’t find his keys this morning. He's irritated as fuck and in a fighting mood.   
  
While he's turning his room upside down, there’s a knock at the door. He considers ignoring it, but the knock comes again, this time louder.   
  
When he answers, a girl in a GSU jersey is standing in his doorway, her eyes red and her cheeks flushed.   
  
“Can I come in?” she asks, her hands shaking.   
  
“No. Sorry.” He closes the door in her face. Seconds later another knock. Damn it. He doesn't know who the chick is, but she needs to find another door to knock on. She continues tapping away at his door, and he yanks it open.   
  
Spencer, one of the biggest of the douchebags in the fraternity, is standing there. His black hair is ruffled, messy, and he smells like beer and shit.   
  
“What the fuck do you want?” Negan asks him, and walsk back into the room, tossing a pair of jeans at him.   
  
“Have you s-seen Cady?” His tone is off, his words slurred.   
  
“Who?”   
  
“The girl I was with last night? Have you seen her?”   
  
Negan thinks back to the red eyes of the girl in the jersey, the way she was wandering the halls, and he shakes his head. He thought she was high at first, and maybe she was, but it never does well to assume.   
  
“She left and she’s not coming back. Leave her alone.” He grabs a book from his shelf and throws it at him.   
  
Groaning, Spencer calls him a dick and leaves.   
  
Negan's still pissed as he drives back to campus, and he continues his newly found pattern of annoying Noah’s roommate.   
  
“I’m excited for this class. I’ve heard really good things about it,” Enid tells him as Negan walks up behind them. They must be closer friends than he thought. Carl's voice is quiet when he responds to her, and she smiles at him. His smile is warm, so warm that Negan has to look away for a moment.   
  
Do they like each other? He has a mannequin girlfriend. She has a boyfriend, as far as Negan knows. They must have broken up, by the way she’s looking at Carl.   
  
Halfway through class, Enid leaves and Carl literally moves his chair farther away from him.

 

~O~

 

Negan finds himself laughing, genuinely laughing, and Carl joins in. His laugh is soft, like cotton.   
  
What the fuck did Negan just . . .   
  
Negan immediately stops laughing and he looks away from him. This is too damn weird.   
  
Carl's weird. And obnoxious.   
  
“I’ll see you around, Carlton.” Negan dismisses him and walks the other way.   
  
Soft like cotton? His giggle pierced through him? What the fuck was that?   
  
He pushes that bullshit to the back of his mind and walks to his car. Tonight there’s another party, as always, and he’ll get his mind away from this shit by burying himself in a tight, wet—   
  
His phone vibrating in his pocket distracts him from his perverted thoughts. Pulling it out, he sees Merle’s name pop up on the screen, and Negan quickly answers.   
  
Merle's been gone for a while, and Negan will be glad to have him back. Everyone has that one person they hang out with who makes them feel better about themselves. For him, that’s Merle. He’s an asshole—grade-A fucking dickhead, ask anyone—but he’s entertaining and he always makes for a good time.   
  
~O~

  
_ The closer he got to **him** , the more of **his**  Negan needed to explore. When he found himself wondering what **he**  thought of when **he** woke up in the morning, or how long **he** takes to get ready, Negan knew **he** was becoming something more than a passerby in his life. Suddenly, **he** was more than the game he was playing with **him**. In his own sick way, he was glad that he could use the game as an excuse to spend more time with **him**. He had leverage and a reason to find out everything there was to know about **him** without his friends getting suspicious. He had validation for wanting to spend as many hours with **him** as he could.   
  
In order to win, he had to, right? _

 

~O~

  
“Why does he have to come again?” Sherry asks the small group as she takes a drag of her cigarette.   
  
“Because he is Noah’s roommate, and Beth likes him, so she’s bringing the kid along,” Simon explains.   
  
“He’s a total square, though. Super fucking obnoxious.” Negan groans, rubbing his head. Carl irritates him even when he’s not around. Sherry must like his reaction, because she leans into him. He moves away before she touches him, pretending that he didn’t realize her intention.   
  
He spent the afternoon fucking her, burying his cock inside of her and thinking of someone else. He could feel the soft curves of **his** hip, **his** full lips. Negan could hear **his** voice saying his name. 

Negan wrapped his hands in Sherry’s hair as he imagined blue eyes, soft brown hair and that laugh… and came hard into the condom. Sherry was so proud of herself for finally getting Negan off without her mouth.   
  
If only she knew.   
  
“He’s hot, though,” Simon adds.   
  
Has everyone noticed how hot Carl is by now?   
  
“Hot? No, he’s not,” Negan lies through his teeth.   
  
A pale hand swipes over messy blond hair. “He’s definitely hot, dude,” Dwight says with surprising certainty. “I would fuck him in a heartbeat.”   
  
“You wish. He’s a total prude, obviously. I mean, who’s a virgin in college?” Sherry mocks Carl.   
  
Simon laughs. “Right—when did you become friends with him and he told you that?”   
  
Sherry scowls at him. “Me? I wouldn’t talk to him, but it’s pretty obvious. I overheard him talking with his girlfriend, definitely a virgin.”   
  
“Maybe that’s why he’s such a bitch, because he hasn’t been fucked properly,” Negan says, and moves a few inches away from Sherry, hoping she won’t follow.   
  
“I may need to do that, then,” Dwight says, trying to make everyone laugh. He fails.   
  
“Yeah, right. You couldn’t even if you tried,” Negan taunts him.   
  
“And you could? I would have a better chance than you!” Dwight counters.   
  
He can’t be serious. Negan fucks Sherry, his ex-girlfriend, almost every other week. He can fuck Carl as well.

“What did I miss?” Merle sits down on the concrete and pulls a joint from his pocket.   
  
“Noah has a total snob for a roommate, and Dwight and Negan here are arguing over who could fuck him first,” Sherry informs him with a growl.   
  
Does Dwight actually think Carl would fuck him? Negan looks around the group, annoyed that everyone is thinking about Carl that way. If Carl’s body is as pure as they say, Negan can just imagine what the smallest touch would do to him. Negan would have Carl twitching beneath him, begging him for more. Dwight could never make Carl come the way Negan could.   
  
But would Carl let him try? If the playing field were completely equal, would Carl choose Dwight over him?   
  
“You know . . . we could make this much more interesting. You up for it?” Negan turns to Dwight.   
  
Dwight smiles. “Depends.”   
  
“Hmm . . . Okay, so let’s see who can hook up with him first.”   
  
What’s the point of this? Negan asks himself the moment he says the words.   
  
And another part of him replies, It could be fun. At least it will give him something to do and a reason to annoy Carl further.   
  
“I don’t know . . .” Dwight’s voice is full of doubt. Negan figured Dwight would be all for beating him at something, given their past and the unspoken grudge Dwight holds against him.   
  
“Come on, don’t be a pussy. It won’t be that hard. We’ll get Beth to make sure Carl comes to the next party, get him to be friendly with us,” Negan explains to them. “Carl’s young and naive—it’ll be simple.”   
  
He’s done this sort of thing before—different stakes and different prey, but a game all the same.   
  
“This is stupid. Who gives a shit who can take some random boy’s virginity?” Sherry huffs, whining like usual.   
  
“If you’re so convinced you can do it, I’ll give you a week.” Merle chokes on the smoke in his lungs and passes the joint to Sherry.   
  
“A week? Dude, he’s super bitchy and we already don’t get along. I think I’ll need longer than that.” They don’t know how stubborn this guy is. Carl’s rude and fucking pushy.   
  
“How long? Two weeks? Look, if you get it within a month, I’ll give you five hundred,” Dwight says, leaning back against the concrete.   
  
“Five hundred dollars?” Sherry gapes. Her fury is amusing. She’s an attention whore, through and through, and she hates Carl for stealing the limelight from her.   
  
“And I’ll add three. Eight hundred. You think you can do it?” Merle asks with bloodshot eyes.   
  
“Yeah, of course I can do it. I just hope Carl doesn’t get all psycho and clingy,” Negan says, deciding whether or not to brag about the times he’s won games like this in the past. He decides against it. 

  
“Doubt it.” Simon laughs, lighting another cigarette.   
  
“Carl isn’t going to go for you. He doesn’t seem that stupid.” Dwight glares at Negan.   
  
Merle laughs, looking directly at Negan. “Yeah, so we need proof when you hit it.”   
  
Proof? That shouldn’t be too hard. Negan can be creative.

  
“What about a video? I could use some new material.” Merle leans back, still eyeing him.   
  
“No, no. That’s too risky,” Negan argues. He’s been down that road before and want to steer fucking clear of it from now on. “Trust me, you’ll get your proof without all that.” Negan looks directly at Dwight and pulls out that smirk again. “I’ve never fucked a virgin. This should be fun.”   
  
Negan smiles a fake smile and brings his fingers to his lips.

  
Sherry interjects, “Wait, how exactly are you two idiots going to get this show on the road? It doesn’t make sense: all of a sudden you’re both just trying to fuck him?” She flips her hair in annoyance. “At least be fucking smart about it,” she gripes, and holds her hand out to borrow Simon’s lighter.   
  
“Good point,” Merle says. “How about a game?”   
  
“A game?” Dwight looks intrigued.   
  
“Like Truth or Dare. We could ask him questions about sex, confirm he’s a virgin so you two aren’t wasting your time to begin with.” Merle waves his hand between Negan and Dwight.   
  
“Truth or Dare? You’ve gotta be shitting me,” Negan groan. No one plays that bullshit anymore.   
  
“Stupid idea.” Simon shakes his head, mock disappointment playing on his face.   
  
No one outside of sixth grade would ever want to play Truth or Dare.   
  
“Actually, it’s a good idea. Less obvious,” Beth adds. “Carl’s so clueless, he’ll think it’s something people do in college for fun. It’s just edgy enough to seem dangerous to him, and just juvenile enough for him to understand.”   


Negan stares at her. She seems nervous, like she’s just playing along. Negan is suddenly glad that Noah isn't in on this, but he would spoil their plans for sure.

  
As Negan looks around the group, everyone is nodding and laughing. These idiots.   
  
Negan shrugs, giving in to their idea, but only because he doesn't have a better one.   
  
“Truth or Dare, it is.” Merle finalizes it.   
  


~O~

  
THE PARTY IS CROWDED, even more than the one last week, and Negan's sober, like always. He stayed in his room as the music got louder and louder, then decided to come down.   
  
As Ihe's wandering around the living room to find Simon, he stops walking when he sees Carl sitting on the couch. Well, at least he thinks it’s Carl? He's dressed differently from before. Way differently. The intriguing blue-gray eyes stand out more his darkened hair, and his clothes are snug on his body.   
  
He’s fucking hot. Negan wouldn’t let him know that, but goddamn, Carl is fucking hot.   
  
“You look . . . different.” Negan can’t stop looking at him as Carl gets to his feet. Carl’s hips— fucking damn, those fucking hips should have Negan’s fingertips imprinted on their skin.   
  
“Your clothes actually fit you tonight.” The sound comes out as a laugh, but Negan doesn't mean for his comment to be a joke.   
  
Carl rolls his eyes and runs his hand down his chest.

  
“It’s a surprise to see you here,” Negan continues, still checking him out.   
  
Carl sighs. “I’m a bit surprised myself that I ended up here again.” Carl walks away from him without a warning, and Negan hesitates for a moment, considering whether he should follow Carl. Negan knows the plan, and now that Carl is dressed like this, Negan is even more ready to get the ball rolling on this shit. He decides not to follow Carl, not yet. Negan lets him get lost in the crowd for a bit.   
  
A few minutes later, Negan leaning against the counter in the kitchen, when Sherry approaches him. “Are you ready for this bullshit or what?” she asks.   
  
She’s irritated and jealous of the new center of attention. Negan gets it. She’s used to getting attention from the opposite sex; it’s how she feels needed.   
  
Negan understands that more than anyone.   
  
“Are you?” He raises a brow to her.   
  
She rolls her heavily lined eyes at him. “I’ll have Beth find him and bring him to the living room, since you obviously aren’t going to be of any help.”   
  
By the time Negan sits down, water cup in hand, Carl is joining the group. He feels uneasy but excited for some reason as the game begins. Negan tries not to think of Lucille or any of the others. It’s not their fault they were born into this society right along with the scum of it, himself included.   
  
“Let’s play Truth or Dare,” Dwight starts, and their small group of tattooed friends gather around the couch. Sherry is passing around a bottle of vodka, and Negan looks away from it, drinking his water as if it was burning his throat in that familiar way.   
  
Beth; Simon; his roommate Fat Joe, Noah; Arat; and Sherry take turns drinking from the bottle. Carl watches them but doesn’t have any.

  
“You should play, too, Carl.” Sherry smiles at him. Negan knows that smile. It’s no good. He still can’t believe they’re going through with this childish bullshit game.   
  
“No, I’d rather not.” Carl picks at his jeans, and Negan glances at Dwight. Dwight looks a little worried. Perhaps he’s intimidated by the way Carl keeps glancing at Negan instead of him.   
  
“To actually play, he would have to take that stick out of his ass,” Negan goad him. The group laughs—all except Noah, who’s doesn't have a clue about the bet. If Noah found out about what the group was doing, he would tell Carl in a blink of an eye.

Negan watches Carl struggle with the peer pressure, ready to give in, then Negan leans into Dwight. “This will be easy. You may as well pay me now,” Negan tells him.   
  
Maybe this game was a good idea after all.   
  
During the first few turns, Dwight chugs a beer, Sherry shows off her nipples. Negan gets a kick out of watching Carl’s eyes bulge and his cheeks turn a deep red as he watches Sherry. Negan can’t help but imagine Carl naked, flushed skin and soft moans.

  
“Truth or dare, Carlton?” Negan asks, trying to get this show on the road. Finally.   
  
“Truth?” Carl sounds unsure. 

  
“Of course,” Negan taunts. Carl glares at him as Simon rubs his hands together while trying to pretend like they all haven’t already agreed upon what he’s supposed to ask.   
  
“Okay. Are you . . . a virgin?” Dwight finally asks.   
  
Carl’s eyes go wide, wider than usual, and he makes a light choking noise in the back of his throat. He’s shocked, horrified, and offended that a stranger would ask him such a personal question. A blush runs down his neck to his chest. Carl’s hands fidget, and Negan get the feeling Carl is trying to decide whether to curse his ass out or run from the room.   
  
“Well?” Negan asks, all the while picturing Carl’s naked body under his. Carl’s voice, soft and subtle, would be making noises that no one has ever heard before. The thought is beyond fucking intriguing, but also fucked up, since Negan can’t speak to the boy without getting assaulted by his snobbish attitude.   
  
At last, this innocent boy gives a quick, silent nod.   
  
Every one of them is thinking about their game and how this sweet, innocent, and crumpling naive boy just became the main piece.   
  
Carl’s a virgin—he just admitted it to the lot of them. Negan knew this to be true before Carl admitted it. Carl could tell by the way he shivered from their conversations alone. Thinking about being the first one to have him, to show him what he’s been missing out on, makes Negan’s cock twitch. He imagine what’s under Carl’s outfit. Now the game has begun, and Negan’s blood is pumping. He’s anxious to be inside of him.

  
Buried balls deep.

  
Carl plays with his hair from across the circle, and Negan imagines that brown hair wrapped around his fist, Negan pulling Carl closer to him as he fucks Carl from behind. He would slap Carl’s round ass, hoping to leave a mark there. Carl would be moaning Negan’s name through his pink, swollen lips. Negan’s name will sound so good coming from Carl’s mouth. Negan adjusts his pants and watches Carl again.   
  
Carl licks her lips, and Negan internally groans.

  
Carl is slowly killing him.

  
Negan wonders how many cocks Carl has down his throat? Negan wonders if Carl has ever tasted a man’s come before, and as the conversation continues, he learns that Carl has done next to nothing when it comes to sex, and Negan intends to show him every last fucking detail of what he’s missed.   
  
  
Negan quickly turns away and goes back to his group. Sherry is taunting Tara about her date last night and Simon is lighting a cigarette when Negan sits back down on the dirty floor.   
  
“Let’s get out of here. I’m bored and I can tell you are too.” Sherry’s breath is hot on his neck as she wraps her arms around his shoulders. He shrugs her off and shakes his head. She latches on again.   
  
“I’m going upstairs,” He tells her. Her arms feel like steel, pulling him down.   
  
“Good idea.” She presses her lips against his neck.   
  
From the combination of her overdrinking and his quick movement, she falls back onto the carpet when she tries to wrap her arms around him, and he gets to his feet.   
  
“Yikes. That was tough to watch,” Tara teases her. She flips her off and turns to him.   
  
“Seriously, Negan?” she growls.   
  
“Seriously, Sherry.” He turns away from her and heads up the stairs.   
  
As he reaches the top of the staircase, his phone rings in his front pocket. Hershel’s name flashes on the screen, and he presses ignore. He’s not in the mood to deal with him. He’s usually not. He just wants to be alone, away from all this music and all these voices. 

But when he nears his room, he sees the door is open, cracked just enough for him to know something is off. he always lock that damn door; did he forget?   
  
Inside, Carl is sitting on Negan’s bed, one of Negan’s comics in his hand. Negan’s phone buzzes again. His anger passes from Hershel to Carl. 

Carl thinks he can just do whatever the fuck he wants? Carl can come into his room, more than once, without Negan’s permission?   
  
Negan hates him. 

 

Negan hates himself when he realizes that he doesn’t hate Carl at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT UPDATE IS OCTOBER 14. THANK YOU!!!!


	18. EIGHTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not edited yet. Sorry for the delay in updates.

When Carl gets to his car he doesn’t cry like he had assumed he would. He just sits and stares out the window. The snow sticks to his windshield, blanketing him inside. The wind around the car is chaotic, picking up the snow and swirling it, completely sheltering him. With each flake of snow coating the glass, a barrier between the harsh reality and the car is formed.

  
He can’t believe that Negan came to the apartment while he was there. He had hoped to not see him. It did help, though, not the pain but the situation in general. At least now he can try to move on from this disastrous time in his life. He wants to believe him and that Negan does love him, but Carl got into this situation by believing him. Negan could just be acting like this because he knows he doesn’t have control over him anymore.

Even if Negan does love him, what would that change? It wouldn’t take back everything he did, it wouldn’t take back all the jokes, the terrible bragging about the things they did, or the lies.  
Carl wishes he could afford that apartment on his own, he would stay there and make Negan leave.

He doesn’t want to go back to the dorms and get a new roommate—he doesn’t want a community shower. Why did it all have to start with a lie? If they’d met in some different way, they could be inside that apartment right now, laughing on the couch or kissing in the bedroom. Instead, Carl’s in his car alone with nowhere to go.

  
When Carl finally starts the car, his hands are frozen. Couldn’t he be homeless in the summer?

  
As he drives through town with nowhere to go, he realizes that Negan’s words had a bigger impact on him than he would like to admit. Him begging Carl to stay almost put the pieces back together just to break them again. Carl’s sure Negan only wanted him to stay to prove that he could. It’s not like he’s started calling and texting again since Carl drove away.

  
Carl forces himself to drive to campus and take his last final before winter break. He feels so detached during the exam and it feels impossible that everyone on campus could be so clueless about what he’s going through. A fake smile and small talk can hide the splitting pain, he supposes.

  
He calls his father to check on the status of getting into a new dorm, only to have his mumble “no luck” and quickly hanging up the phone.

After driving aimlessly for a bit, he finds himself a block away from The Governor’s and realize it’s already five in the evening. He didn’t want to take advantage of Enid by asking her to stay at Hershel’s house again. He knows she wouldn’t mind, but it’s not fair of him to put Negan’s family in the middle of this, and honestly that house carries too many memories.

He can’t stand it.

He passes a street lined with motels and pulls into the lot of one of the nicer-looking ones. He suddenly realizes that he’s never actually stayed at a motel before, but it’s not like he has anywhere else to go.

  
The short man behind the counter looks friendly enough as he smiles at Carl and asks for his driver’s license. A few short minutes later he’s handing Carl a key card and a slip of paper with a Wifi code. Getting a room is much easier than he thought it would be—a little expensive, but he doesn’t want to stay someplace cheap and risk his safety.

  
“Down the sidewalk and make a left,” he informs Carl with a smile.

  
Carl thanks him and heads back out into the blistering cold and moves his car to the spot next to his room so he doesn’t have to carry his bags.

  
This is what he has come to because of that thoughtless, egotistical boy: He’s someone staying in a motel, alone, all his belongings stuffed frantically into bags. He’s someone who has no one to lean on instead of someone who always had a plan.

  
Grabbing some of his bags, he locks his car, which looks like junk compared to the BMW next to him. Just as he thinks his day could not get any worse, he loses his grip on one of his bags and drops it onto the snowy sidewalk. His clothes and a few books topple out onto the wet snow. He scrambles to pick them up with his free hand, but he’s afraid to see which comics they are—he doesn’t think he can take his favorite possessions being ruined alongside him, not today.

  
“Here let me help you,” a familiar voice says as a hand reaches down to help Carl. “Carl?”

  
Shocked, Carl looks up to see hazel eyes and a concerned face.

“Patrick?” he says even though he knows it’s him. Patrick is someone Carl sees from time to time at work. A really nice guy, unlike-

  
Carl stands upright and looks around. “What are you doing here?”

  
“I’d ask you the same thing.” He smiles.

  
“Well . . . I’m . . .” Carl takes his bottom lip between his teeth.

  
But Patrick saves him from having to explain himself. “My plumbing went haywire, so here I am.”

Bending down, he gathers some of Carl’s stuff and hands him a soaked copy of a graphic novel with a raise of his brow. Then he hands Carl a couple of wet sweaters and The Hunger Games, saying ruefully, “Here . . . this one’s in bad shape.”

  
And like that, Carl knows the universe is playing a sick joke on him.

  
“I somehow knew you would be into the comics,” Patrick tells him with a friendly smile.

He takes the bags from him and Carl gives him a nod of thanks before sliding in the key card and opening the door.

The room is freezing, so he goes over to the heater immediately and turns it all the way up.

  
“You would think for how much they charge here they wouldn’t worry about their electric bill,” Patrick says and sets Carl’s bags on the floor.

  
Carl smiles and nods in agreement. He grabs the clothes that fell onto the snow and put them over the shower curtain rod.

When he comes back into the main room, there’s an awkward silence with this person Carl barely knows in this room that isn’t really his.

“Is your apartment nearby?” He asks, to bring some life into the space.

  
“House. But yeah, it’s only about a mile away. I like to be close to work, so I know I won’t ever be late.”

  
“That’s a good idea . . .” It sounds like something Carl would do.

  
Patrick looks so different in casual clothes. Carl has only ever seen him in suits, but here he’s wearing snug blue jeans and a red sweatshirt, with his hair messy where it’s usually perfectly gelled.

  
“I think so, too. So are you alone?” he asks and looks at the ground, obviously uncomfortable prying.

  
“Yeah. I’m alone.” Carl means that in more ways than he knows.

  
“I’m not trying to be nosy, I was just asking because your boyfriend doesn’t seem to like me much.” He half laughs and wipes his black hair from his forehead.

  
They met? Negan isn’t his boyfriend, not anymore. Then Carl remembers how Negan would come to the office now and then.

  
“Oh, Negan doesn’t like anyone—don’t take it personally.” Carl shoves his hands into his pockets. “He isn’t my boyfriend, though.”

  
“Oh, sorry. I just assumed he was.”

  
“He was . . . sort of.”

  
Was he? He said he was. But then, Negan said a lot of things.

  
“Oh, sorry again. I just keep saying all the wrong things.” He laughs.

  
“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” Carl tells him and unpacks the rest of his bags.

  
“Do you want me to go? I don’t mean to intrude.” He half turns toward the door, as if to show his offer is genuine.

  
“No, no, you can stay. If you want, of course. You don’t have to,” Carl says too quickly.

  
What is wrong with him?

  
“It’s settled, then, I’ll stay,” he says and sits down on the chair next to the desk. Carl looks for a place to sit himself, and eventually decides on the edge of the bed. He’s pretty far away from him, which makes him realize how spacious the room really is.

  
“So, how are you liking The Governor’s so far?” Patrick asks, his fingers tracing patterns on the wooden desk.

  
“I love it. It’s so much more than I ever expected. It’s literally my dream job. I hope to get hired on after I graduate.”

  
“Oh, I think you’ll be offered a position there well before then. Phillip is very fond of you—that graphic you turned in last week was all I heard about at lunch the other day. He says you have a good eye, and from him that’s a huge compliment.”

  
“Really? He said that?”

Carl can’t help but smile. The action feels odd and unwelcome but also comforting all at once.

  
“Yeah, why else would he invite you to the conference? Only the four of us are going.”

  
“Four of us?” Carl asks.

  
“Yeah. Me, you, Phillip, and Andrea.”

  
“Oh, I didn’t know Andrea was going.” Carl hopes desperately that Mr. Blake didn’t only invite him because he feels obligated due to his relationship with Negan, his best friend’s son.

  
“He wouldn’t be able to go a weekend without her,” Patrick teases. “Because of her office management skills, of course.”

  
Carl gives a little smile. “I can see that. So why are you going?” He asks, and then mentally slaps himself. “I mean why are you going, since you work in finance, don’t you?” He tries to clarify.

  
“No, I get it, you artists don’t need the human calculator around.” He rolls his eyes, and Carl laughs, really laughs.

“He’s opening a second office in New York shortly and we’re going to a meeting with a potential investor. Also, we’ll be scouting locations, so he needs me to make sure we get a good deal, and Andrea to make sure whatever building we like functions with our work flow.”

“Are you into real estate, too?” The room is finally warm, so Carl takes his shoes off and stretches his legs out a bit more.

  
“No, not at all, but I’m good with numbers,” he brags. “It’ll be a good time, though. New York is a beautiful city. Have you been?”

  
“No, but I always wanted to go. Not that I have a lot to choose from . . .”

  
“Me either; I’m from Kansas, so I haven’t seen much. Compared to Kansas, New York is like a different country.”

  
Carl finds himself genuinely interested in knowing more about Patrick. “What made you come to Georgia?”

  
“Well, my mother passed away my senior year of high school and I just had to go. There’s just so much more to see, you know? So I promised her right before she died that I wouldn’t spend my life in that dreadful town where we lived. The day I got accepted to GSU was the best and worst day of my life.”

  
“Worst?” Carl asks.

  
“She passed away that same day. Ironic, isn’t it?” He gives a wan smile. The way only half of his mouth turns up is lovely.

  
“I’m sorry.”

  
“No, don’t be. She was one of those people that didn’t belong here with the rest of us. She was too good, you know? My family got to have more time with her than we deserved, and I wouldn’t change a thing,” he says. He gives me full smile and gestures at Carl. “What about you? Are you going to stay here forever?”

  
“No, I always wanted to move to somewhere in Georgia. But lately I’ve been thinking of going even further,” Carl admits.

  
Maybe New York.

  
“You should. You should travel and see everything you possibly can. A man like you shouldn’t be kept in a box.” He must notice some odd look on Carl’s face, because he quickly says, “Sorry . . . I just mean you could do so much. You have a lot talents, I can tell.”

  
But Carl wasn’t bothered by what he said. Something about the way he called him a man makes him happy; in his life, I’ve always felt like a child because everyone treats him like one. Patrick is only a friend, a new friend, but Carl is really glad to have his company on this terrible day.

  
“Have you had dinner?” Carl asks.

  
“Not yet. I was debating whether or not to order a pizza, so I don’t have to go back into that blizzard.” He laughs.

  
“We could split one?” Carl offers.

  
“Deal,” Patrick says, with the kindest look Carl has seen in a long time.

  
~O~

  
NEGAN

  
His father has the stupidest expression on his face; it always happens when he tries to look authoritative, like now, with his arms crossed as he stands filling his front doorway.

  
“He isn’t going to come here, Negan—he knows you’ll find him.”

  
Negan fights the urge to knock his teeth down his throat. Instead, he runs his fingers through his hair, flinching slightly when his knuckles twinge. The cuts are deeper than usual this time. Punching the drywall did more damage to his hands than he thought.

It’s nothing compared to how he feels inside. He never knew this type of pain existed; it’s so much worse than any physical pain he could cause himself.

  
“Son, I really think you should give him some space.”

  
Who the fuck does he think he is?

  
“Space? He doesn’t need space! He needs to come home!” Negan yells. The old woman next door turns to look at them, and Negan raises his arms at her.

  
“Please don’t be rude to my neighbors,” Hershel warns him.

  
“Then tell your neighbors to mind their own damn business!” He’s sure the old gray-hair heard that.

  
“Goodbye, Negan,” his ‘father’ says with a sigh and closes the door.

  
“Fuck!” Negan yells and paces back and forth on the porch a few times before finally going back out to his car.

  
Where the hell is he? As mad as Negan is, he’s worried as hell about him. Is he alone, or afraid? Oh course, knowing Carl, he isn’t afraid at all; he’s probably going over the reasons he hates him. Actually, he’s probably writing them down. Carl’s need to be in control of everything and his stupid lists used to drive Negan crazy, but now he longs to see him scribbling the most irrelevant things.

  
Negan would give anything to watch him chew on his full bottom lip in concentration, or see that adorable scowl take over his sweet face, even one more time.

Now that she’s with Lydia and his family, the small chance Negan thought he had is gone. Once he’s reminded why she’s better for him than Negan, Carl will be Lydia again.

  
Negan calls him again, but his phone goes straight to voicemail for the twentieth time. Goddammit, Negan is such a fucking idiot. After driving around for an hour to every library, every bookstore, he decides to go back to the apartment.

Maybe he’ll show up, maybe he’ll show up . . . Negan knows he won’t.  
But what if he does? Negan needs to clean up the huge mess he made, and buy some new dishes to replace the ones that he smashed against the walls, just in case he comes home.

  
~O~

  
A man’s voice booms through the air, and vibrates his bones: “Where are you, Bates?”

  
“I saw him leave the bar. I know he’s here,” another man says.

  
The floor is cold when Negan climbs out of bed. At first he thought it was Daddy and his friends, but now he doesn’t think it is.

  
“Come out, come out wherever you are!” the deepest voice yells, and there’s a massive crash.

  
“He isn’t here,” his mommy says as Negan reaches the bottom of the stairs and can see everyone. His mom and four men.

  
“Ohhh, look what we have here,” the taller man says. “Who knew Bates had such a bangin’ wife.” He grabs Negan’s mom by the arm and pulls her off the couch.

  
She grabs at her shirt desperately. “Please . . . he isn’t here. If he owes you money, I’ll give you all I have. You can take anything in the house, the television maybe . . .”

  
But the man only sneers at her. “A television? I don’t want a damn television.”

  
Negan watches her struggle to shake free of him, almost like a fish he caught once. “I have some jewelry—not much, but please—”

  
“Shut the fuck up!” another man says and smacks her.

  
“Mom!” Negan yells and runs into the living room.

  
“Negan . . . go upstairs!” she shouts, but he’s not leaving his mommy with these bad men.

  
“Get out of here, you little shit,” one of them tells Negan, pushing him so he lands hard on his butt. “See, bitch, the problem is that your husband did this,” he snarls, pointing to his head, where Negan sees a massive gash across his bald scalp. “And since he isn’t here, the only thing we want is you.” He smiles, and she kicks her legs at him.

  
“Negan, baby, go upstairs . . . Now!” she yells.

  
Wait, why is she mad at him?

  
“I think he wants to watch,” the injured man says and pushes her onto the couch.

  
Negan jolts awake and sits up.

  
Fuck.

  
They keep coming, every night worse than the last. Negan got so used to them not coming that he could sleep. Because of Carl, it was all because of him.

  
But here Negan is at four in the damn morning with bloody sheets from his busted knuckles and a killer headache from his nightmares.

  
Negan closes his eyes and tries to pretend Carl is really here, and hopes that sleep will come.

  
~O~  
  
“Car, baby, wake up,” Negan whispers as he touches his lips to the soft skin just under Carl’s ear. “You look so handsome when you’re waking up.”

  
Carl smiles, pulling him by his hair to meet his eyes. Carl brushes his nose against his, and Negan chuckles.

  
“I love you,” Negan says and presses his lips to his.

  
Only Carl can’t feel them. “Negan?” He questions. “Negan?”

  
But he fades from his side—

  
Carl snaps his eyes open and is thrown back into reality. The strange room is pitch black, and for a second he forgets where he is. And then it comes to him: a motel room. Alone. He grabs his phone off the bedside table and see it’s only 4 a.m. He wipes the tears from the corners of his eyes and closes his eyes to trying to get back to Negan, even if it’s only in a dream.

  
~O~

  
When he finally wakes up again, it’s seven. Carl steps into the shower and tries to enjoy the hot water as it relaxes him. He brushes his hair and washes his face; today is the first day he feels like looking decent. He needs to get rid of this . . . mess that’s inside of him. Not knowing what else to do, Carl takes a page from his mother’s book and paints a perfect face on in order to bury what’s inside.

  
He needed to visit her.

  
When he’s finished, he looks well rested somehow and actually really nice. Black slacks and a white shirt with a black blazer will do.

  
Before he gets dressed, he packed his bags so they’re more orderly. He hopes his father calls with some good news about the dorms. If not, he’ll have to stay here until he does, which will drain what little money he has, and fast. Maybe he should just look into getting his own place. He might be able to afford something small close to The Governor’s.  
Carl opens the door to find the snow mostly melted under the morning sun.

Thank God. Just as he unlocks his car door, Patrick walks out of his room two doors down from his. He’s wearing a black suit and a green tie; he looks so put together.

  
“Good morning! I would’ve helped you get those, you know,” Patrick says when he sees Carl’s carrying his bags.

  
Carl feels like a damsel in distress.

  
Last night, after they ate pizza, they watched a little television and shared stories of college. Patrick had a lot more stories than him since he’s already graduated, and while Carl really enjoyed hearing about what his college experience could have—and should have—been like, it made him a little sad, too. He shouldn’t have been going to parties with people like Negan. He should have found himself a small but true group of friends. He should have listened to Noah. It would’ve been so different, so much better.

  
“Did you sleep well?” Patrick asks and pulls a set of keys out of his pocket. With a click, the BMW engine starts. Of course, the BMW is his.

  
“Your car starts itself?” Carl laughs.

  
He holds up his key. “Well, this thing starts it.”

  
“Nice.” Carl smiles a little sarcastically.

  
“Convenient,” he counters.

  
“Extravagant?”

  
“A little.” He laughs. “But still very convenient. You look handsome today, as usual.”

  
Carl puts his bags in the back of his car. “Thank you, it’s freezing out,” he says and get into the driver’s seat.

  
“See you at work, Carl.” Patrick says and climbs into his BMW.

  
Despite the sun, it’s still cold, so Carl quickly thrusts his key into the ignition and turns it to start up the heater.

  
Click. Click. Click . . . is his car’s only response.

  
Frowning, Carl tries again, and get the same thing.

  
“Can I get a fucking break!” Carl says aloud and hits his fists against the steering wheel.

  
For a third time he tries to start his car, but of course nothing happens, not even the clicking this time. He looks over, thankful that Patrick is still here. His window rolls down, and Carl can’t help but laugh at his own misfortune.

  
“Do you think you could give me a ride?” Carl asks and Patrick nods.

  
“Of course. I think I know where you’re going . . .” He laughs, and Carl climbs out of his car.

  
He can’t help but turn his phone on during the short drive to The Governor’s. Surprisingly, he has no new texts from Negan. He has a few voicemails, but he doesn’t know if they’re from him or his father. Choosing not to listen to them just in case, Carl insteads texts his father and asks him about the dorms. Patrick drops me off at the door so he doesn’t have to walk in the cold, which is really thoughtful of him.

  
“You look refreshed,” Andrea says with a smile as Carl walks in and grabs a donut.

  
“I feel a little better. Sort of,” he says and pours himself a cup of coffee.

  
“Are you ready for tomorrow? I can’t wait to get out of here for the weekend—New York has amazing shopping, and while Mr. Blake and Patrick have their meetings we’ll find some fun stuff to do. Is, um, have you talked to Negan?”

  
It takes him a second, but he decides to tell her. She’ll probably find out anyway.

“No. Actually, I moved my stuff out yesterday,” he says and she frowns.

  
“I’m sorry, C. It’ll get easier as time goes by.”

  
Carl hopes she’s right.

  
His day goes faster than expected, and he finishes this week’s graphic design early. He’s excited to go to New York, and he hopes that he can get his mind off Negan, even if it’s only for a little bit. Monday is his birthday, which he’s not looking forward to it at all.

If things hadn’t gone downhill so quickly, he’d be on my way to South Carolina with Negan on Tuesday. He doesn’t really want to spend Christmas with his father either. Hopefully he’ll be back in the dorms by then—even if they’ll basically be empty—and then maybe he can think of a good enough reason to not show at his father’s. He still wants to see Michonne. He knows it’s Christmas, and that’s terrible of him, but he’s not exactly in a holiday mood.

  
His father texts him as his day is winding down, saying that he hasn’t heard back about the dorm. Great. At least Carl only have one more night until the New York trip. Shuffling around from place to place is not fun at all.

  
As he’s getting ready to leave for the day, he remembers he didn’t drive to work himself. Shit, he hopes Patrick hasn’t already left.

  
“See you tomorrow, we’ll meet here, and Philip's driver will take us to the his private jet and New York will he only a few hours away,” Andrea tells him.

  
Mr. Blake has a driver?

And a private jet?

  
Of course he does.

  
When Carl steps off the elevator, Patrick is sitting on one of the black couches in the lobby; the contrast of the black couch, black suit, and his hazel eyes is very appealing.

  
“I wasn’t sure if you needed a ride or not, and I didn’t want to bother you in your office,” Patrick tells him.

  
“Thank you, I really appreciate it. I’m going to call someone about my car when I get back to the motel.” It’s slightly warmer than it was this morning but still freezing outside.

  
“I can wait with you if you want. My plumbing is fixed now, so I won’t be staying at the motel again, but I’ll wait with you if you—” He stops talking suddenly and his eyes go wide.

  
“What?” Carl asks and follows Patrick’s eyes to see Negan standing by his car in the lot and staring angrily at Patrick and him.

  
The breath has been knocked out of Carl once again. How does it keep getting worse?

  
“Negan, what are you doing here?” He asks, storming toward him.

  
“Well, you don’t answer my calls, so I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?” Negan says.

  
“I didn’t answer for a reason, you can’t just show up to my job!” Carl yells back.

  
Patrick looks uncomfortable and intimidated by Negan’s presence, but he stays next to Carl. “Are you okay? Let me know if you’re ready.”

  
“Ready for what?” Negan’s eyes are wild.

  
“He’s taking me back to the motel since my car wouldn’t start.”

  
“Motel!” Negan raises his voice.

  
Before Carl can stop him, Negan has his hands on Patrick, gripping the collar of his suit as he slams him against a red truck.

  
“Negan! Stop! Let him go! We didn’t stay together!” Carl explains. Why is he explaining himself to Negan is beyond him, but he doesn't want him to hurt Patrick.

  
Negan lets go of Patrick’s clothing but stays in his face.

  
“Back off of him, now.” Carl grabs Negan’s shoulder and he relaxes slightly.

  
“Stay away from him,” Negan spits, his face only inches from Patrick.

  
Patrick looks pale, and once again Carl brought someone else into this mess that doesn’t deserve to be.

  
“I’m so sorry,” Carl tells Patrick.

  
“It’s okay, do you still need a ride?” he asks.

  
“No, he doesn’t,” Negan answers for him.

  
“Yes, please,” Carl says to Patrick. “I just need a minute.”

  
Like the gentleman that he is, he nods and goes over to his car to give them space.  
  
“I can’t believe you’re staying at a motel.” Negan runs his hand over his hair.

  
“Yeah . . . neither can I.”

  
“You can stay at the apartment, I’ll stay back at the frat house or something.”

  
“No.” Not happening.

  
“Please don’t be difficult.” Negan rubs his hand across his forehead.

  
“Difficult? Fuck you! I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now!”

  
“Would you just calm down? Now, what’s wrong with your car? And why was that guy staying at the motel?”

  
“I don’t know what’s wrong with my car.” Carl groans. He’s not answering him about Patrick, it’s none of his business.

  
“I’ll take a look at it.”

  
“No, I’ll call someone. Just go.”

  
“I’ll follow you to the motel.” Negan nods toward the road.

  
“Would you just stop?” Carl growls and Negan rolls his eyes. “Is this some sort of game to you, to see just how far you can push me?”

  
Negan takes a step back as if Carl pushed him. Patrick’s car is still here, waiting for him.

  
“No, that’s not what I’m doing. How could you even think that after everything I’ve done?”

  
“Exactly, I do think that because of everything you’ve done,” Carl says, almost laughing at his choice of words.

  
“I just want you to talk to me. I know we can work this out,” Negan tells him. He’s played so many games with Carl since the beginning that he can’t tell what’s real.

  
“I know you miss me, too,” Negan says, leaning against his car. His words stop Carl in his tracks.

  
So arrogant.

  
“Is that what you want to hear? That I miss you? Of course I miss you, but you know what? It’s not actually you that I miss, it’s who I thought you were, and now that I know who you really are, I want nothing to do with you!” Carl yells.

  
“You’ve always known who I really am! I’ve been me all along, you know that!” Negan shouts back.

Why can’t they ever just talk without yelling at each other? Negan makes him crazy, that’s why. Not even a good way this time.

  
“No, I don’t know that; if I knew that I . . .” Carl stops himself before he admits that he wants to forgive him. What he wants to do and what he knows he should do are two totally different things.

  
“You what?” Negan asks. Of course he would try and coerce Carl to continue.

  
“Nothing, you need to go.”

  
“Carl, you don’t know what it’s been like the last few days for me. I can’t sleep, I can’t even function without you. I need to know there’s a chance we could—”  
Carl interrupts him before he can finish.

  
“What it’s been like for you?” How can he be so selfish?

  
“What do you think it’s been like for me, Negan? Imagine how it feels to have your life completely ripped apart within hours! Imagine how it feels to be so in love with someone that you give them everything, only to find out it was all a game, a bet! How do you think that feels!” Carl takes a step toward him, his hands moving frantically between them.

“How do you think it feels to lose my relationship with my father over someone who could give less of a shit about me! How do you think it feels to be staying in a goddamn motel room? How do you think if it feels to try to move on from this when you keep showing up everywhere! You just don’t know when to stop!”

  
Negan doesn’t say anything, so Carl continues his rant. Part of him feels like he’s being too harsh on him, but he betrayed him in the worst way and he deserves it.

  
“So don’t you sit here and tell me that it’s been hard for you because you did this! You fucking ruined everything! Just like you always do, so you know what? I don’t feel sorry for you . . . Actually I do. I feel sorry for you because you will never be happy. You will be alone for the rest of your life, and for that I feel sorry for you. I’ll move on, find a nice person who’ll treat me the way you should have, and we’ll get married and have children. I will be happy.”

  
Carl is out of breath after his long speech, and Negan is looking at him with red eyes and an open mouth.

  
“You know the worst part of all of this? It’s that you warned me, you said you would ruin me and I didn’t listen.” Carl tries desperately to stop his tears, but he can’t. They fall mercilessly down his face, and his eyes burn. He can barely see.

  
“I’m . . . I’m sorry. I’ll go,” Negan says in a low voice. He looks completely and utterly defeated, the way Carl wanted him to look, but it doesn’t give him the satisfaction that he thought it would.

  
Carl maybe could have forgiven him in the beginning if he’d have told him the truth, even after they slept together, but instead he hid it from him, offered people money for their silence, and tried to trap him by making me sign the lease with Negan.

Carl’s first time being intimate with someone is something he will never forget, and Negan ruined that.

  
Carl rushes over to Patrick’s car and jumps inside. The heat is on, blasting at his face, mixing with his hot tears. Patrick stays quiet and Carl is thankful yet again for his silence as he drives him to the motel.

  
By the time the sun goes down, Carl forces himself to take a cold shower, too cold. The look on Negan’s face as he backed away from him and got into his car is etched in the back of his mind. Carl sees his face every time he close his eyes.

  
His phone hasn’t rung once since he left. He had this silly, naive idea that they could work. That despite their differences and his temper, well, both of their tempers… they could make it work somehow. He’s not sure how he manages to fall asleep, but he does.

  
The next morning he’s a little anxious about going on his first business trip and begins to panic. Plus he forgot to get someone to fix his car. Fuck.

  
Carl looks up the nearest mechanic and call them. He’ll probably have to pay them extra to keep his car for the weekend, but that’s the least of his worries right now. He doesn’t mention it to the friendly man who answers in the hopes they just won’t bother charging him for it.

  
He gets himself ready, and chooses a navy-blue outfit that he hasn’t worn yet, something he bought because he knew Negan would loved the color blue on him. It brought out his eyes. Admittedly, he feels sexy.

  
He hates that everything makes Carl think of him. As he stands in front of the mirror, he imagines how Negan would be looking at him in this suit, the way his pupils would dilate and he’d lick his lips before pulling his lip between his teeth.  
A knock on the door brings Carl back to reality.

  
“Mr. Grimes?” A man in a blue mechanic’s uniform asks when Carl opens the door.

  
“That’s me,” he says and pulls open his bag to grab the keys. “Here, it’s the white Corolla,” he says as he hands them to him.

  
He looks behind him. “White Corolla?” he asks, confused.

  
Carl steps outside. His car is . . . gone.

  
“What the . . . Okay, let me call the front desk and see if they had my car towed for leaving it here yesterday.” What a great way to start his day.

  
“Hello, this is Carl Grimes, room thirty-six,” he says when the front desk guy answers. “I think you had my car towed?” He’s trying to be nice, but this is really frustrating. What is happening?

  
“No, I didn’t,” he replies.

  
Carl’s head is spinning. “Okay, well then, my car must have been stolen or something . . .” If someone took his car, he’s beyond screwed. It’s almost time for him to leave.

  
“No, your friend came and got it this morning.”

  
“My friend?”

  
“Yeah, the one with… the leather jacket and stuff.” He says it quietly, as if Negan could actually hear him.

  
“What?” Carl knows what he said, but that’s all he can think to say.

  
“Yeah, he came with a tow truck this morning about two hours ago,” he says. “Sorry, I thought you knew—”

  
“Thanks.” Carl groans and hangs up.

Turning to the man before him, he says, “I am so sorry. Apparently someone has already had my car taken to another mechanic. I didn’t know; I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

  
He smiles and assures him that it’s okay.  
After his fight with Negan yesterday, it slipped his mind that he needed a ride to work today. Carl calls Patrick to let him know, and he tells him that he already asked Mr. Blake and Andrea to swing by and pick him up on their way.

After thanking him, Carl hangs up and pulls back the curtain on the window. A black car pulls into the lot and stops in front of his room. The window rolls down and he sees Andrea’s blond hair.

  
“Good morning! We’re here to save you!” she announces with a laugh when Carl opens the door. Smart and kind Patrick, always thinking ahead.

  
The driver gets out and with a tip of his cap grabs Carl’s bag and stashes it in the trunk for him. When he opens the back door, he sees two seats that face each other. On one, Andrea pats the leather, inviting him to sit next to her. On the other, Mr. Blake and Patrick look at him with amused expressions.

  
“Ready for your weekend getaway?” Patrick asks with a wide smile.

  
“More than you can imagine,” Carl replies and gets into the car.

  
~O~

  
As the jet takes off, Patrick and Mr. Blake return to what appears to be a deep conversation about price per square foot on a new building in New York. Andrea nudges him with her elbow and then mimics their talking with her hand.

  
“They are so serious,” she says. “So, Patrick said something happened to your car?”

  
“Yeah. I have no idea what,” Carl says, trying to keep a light tone, which is easier with Andrea’s friendly smile. “It wouldn’t start yesterday, so I called someone to fix it. But Negan already had someone come get it.”

  
She smirks. “Persistent, isn’t he?”

  
He sighs. “I guess so. I just wish he would give me a little time to process all of this.”

  
“Process what?” she asks. Carl forgets that she doesn’t know about the bet, his humiliation, and he certainly doesn’t want to tell her. She only knows that Negan and him broke up.

  
“I don’t know, just everything. I have so much going on right now, and I still don’t have anywhere to live. I feel like he isn’t taking this as seriously as he should. He thinks he can just play puppeteer with me and my life. He thinks he can just show up and say sorry and all will be forgiven, but that’s not how it works. Not anymore at least,” Carl huffs.

  
“Well, good for you. I’m happy you’re standing up for yourself,” she says.

  
He’s just glad she isn’t asking for details. “Thank you. Me, too.”

  
He’s really proud of himself for standing up to Negan and not just giving in, but at the same time he feels terrible for what he said to him yesterday. He knows he deserved it, but he can’t help but think, What if Negan does care as much as he claims? But even if somewhere deep down he does, Carl just doesn’t think it’s enough to ensure he doesn’t hurt him again.

  
Because that’s what he does: he hurts people.

  
Changing the subject, Andrea says excitedly, “We should go out tonight right after the last talk. On Sunday those two will be in meetings all morning, so we’ll do some shopping then. We’ll go out tonight, and maybe Saturday night, too. What do you think?”

  
“Go out where?” Carl laughs. “I’m only eighteen.”

  
“Oh, please. Phillip knows a lot of people in New York. If you’re with him, you can get in anywhere.” Carl loves the way her eyes light up when she speaks of Mr. BLake, even though he’s already right next to her.

  
“Okay,” He says. He’s never been “out” before. He’s been to the few parties at the frat house, but he hasn’t ever been to a nightclub or anything even close.

  
“It’ll be fun, don’t worry,” she assures him. “And you should definitely wear that suit,” she adds with a laugh.

  
~O~

NEGAN

  
_You will be alone for the rest of your life, and for that I feel sorry for you. I’ll move on, find a nice person who’ll treat me the way you should have, and we’ll get married and have children. I will be happy._

  
Carl’s words keep playing over and over in his head. He know Carl’s right, but he so desperately don’t want him to be. He had never minded being alone until now—now he knows what he’s missing.

  
“You in?” Merle’s voice breaks through his muddled thoughts.

  
“Uh, what?” Negan ask. He almost forgot that he was driving.

  
He rolls his eyes and takes a hit from his joint.

  
“I asked if you were in. We’re going to Dwight’s.”

  
Negan groans. “I don’t know . . .”

  
“Why not? You need to stop being such a pussy. You’re moping around like a fucking baby.”

  
Negan glares at him. If he had gotten any sleep last night, he’d reach across and choke him. “I am not,” he says slowly.

  
“You so are, dude. You need to get wasted and laid tonight. I’m sure there’ll be some easy girls or boys there.”

  
“I don’t need to get laid.” Negan didn’t want anyone but him.

  
“Well, come on, drive over to Dwight’s. If you don’t want to get laid, then at least come have a few beers,” he says.

  
“Don’t you ever want to do more?” Negan asks and Merle looks over at him like he’s grown horns.

  
“What?”

  
“You know, doesn’t it feel like it’s getting old just partying and hooking up with different girls all the time?”

  
“Whoa, whoa—this is worse than I thought. You got it bad, man!”

  
“No, I don’t. I’m just saying. Doing the same old shit all the time gets old.”

  
He doesn’t know how enjoyable it is to lie in bed and make Carl laugh, he doesn’t know how fun it is to hear his ramble on about his favorite comics, to have him playfully punch him when Negan tried to grope him. It’s much better than any party that Negan ever been to or will ever go to.

  
“He really did a number on you. That’s some shit, isn’t it?” He laughs.

  
“No, he didn’t,” Negan lies.

  
“Sure . . .” He throws the remainder of his joint out of my car window. “He’s single, though, right?” he asks, and when Negan’s grip on the wheel tightens Merle laughs even harder.

“I’m just fucking around, Bates. Just wanted to see how pissed you would get.”

  
“Fuck off,” Negan grumble, and to prove a point, he turns on the back road to Dwight’s.

  
~O~

CARL 

  
The Four Seasons in New York is the nicest hotel Carl has ever seen. He tries to walk slowly to take in all the beautiful details, but Andrea practically drags him onto the elevator and down the hall, leaving Patrick and Mr. Blake in her wake.

  
Stopping in front of a door, she says, “Here’s your room. After you unpack, we’ll meet in our suite to go over the itinerary for the weekend, even though I already know you’ve already done this. You should change, because I really think you should save that suit for tonight when we go out.” She winks and strolls off down the hall.

  
The differences between his hotel from the last two nights and this one are vast.

One painting from the lobby here probably costs more than what they spent decorating an entire room at the other place.

The view from his window is incredible. New York is such a beautiful city. He can easily imagine himself living here, in a high-rise apartment with a job at NYC Designs, or even NYC Governor’s, now that they’re opening an office here. That would be amazing.

  
After he hangs up his clothes for the weekend, he changes into a black shirt  and tan slacks. He’s excited about the conference, but nervous about going out.

He knows he needs to have some fun, but it’s all new to him and he still feels empty from the damage Negan has caused.

  
By the time he gets to Andrea and Mr. Blake’s suite, it’s two thirty. He’s anxious because he knows they should be downstairs in the banquet room by three.

  
Andrea greets hin warmly when she opens the door and leads hin inside. Their suite has its own living room and a separate sitting room. It looks bigger than his parent’s entire house.

  
“This is . . . wow,” he says.

  
Mr. Blake laughs and pours himself a glass of what looks like water. “It’s okay.”

  
“We ordered some room service so we can all eat a little something before we head downstairs. It should be here any minute,” Andrea says, and Carl smiles and thanks her.

He didn’t realize how hungry he was until she mentioned food. He hasn’t eaten at all today.

  
“You ready to be bored out of your mind?” Patrick asks as he appears from the sitting room.

“It won’t be boring to me.” Carl smiles and Patrick laughs. “I may not want to leave this place,” he adds.

  
“Me either,” Patrick admits.

  
“Same,” Andrea says.

  
Mr. Blake shakes his head. “That could be arranged, love.” He puts his hand on her back and Carl looks away from the intimate gesture.

  
“We should just bring the main office here and all move!” Andrea jokes. At least he think she’s joking.

  
“Jones would love New York.” Mr. Blake says.

  
“Jones?” Carl asks, then he remembers his son from the wedding and blushes. “Sorry, your son, of course.”

  
“It’s okay—it’s an odd name, I know.” He laughs and leans into Andrea. It must be so nice to be in a loving, trusting relationship.

Carl envies Andrea this, a shameful envy, but envy nonetheless. She has a man in her life who obviously cares for her and would do anything to make her happy.

She’s so lucky.

  
Carl smiles. “It’s a lovely name.”

  
After eating, they head downstairs, and he’s thrown into a large conference room full of people who love comics. It’s heaven.

  
“Network. Network. Network,” Mr. Blake says. “It’s all about networking.” And for the next three hours he introduces him to almost every single person in the room. The best part is that he doesn’t introduce Carl as his intern and he treats him like an adult. They all do.

New York City is a dream come out. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting. I lost two people in my family back to back a few months ago and I fell into a heavy depression. Then Carl, my favorite character on The Walking Dead, died. Like what the fuck. Plus, this story is “depressing” right now. So it really sucks.
> 
> Anyway, for those asking, this story is inspired by a hetero story called “After” by Anna Todd. It’s a Harry Styles fan fiction by the way. You can read in for free on Wattpad and it’s also got turned into a published story a few years ago. I think it’s getting made into a movie series. IT’S A LONG SERIES SO I CHOPPED IT DOWN BECAUSE IT GOT TOOOOOOOO LONG AFTER A WHILE.


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